


The Brightest Stars Are Born in Darkness

by saltylikecrait



Series: Brightest Stars Quartet [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Conditioning, Depression, Developing Relationship, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Escape, F/M, Falling In Love, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Past Abuse, Propaganda, Scheming, Stormtrooper Culture, The First Order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-26 01:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltylikecrait/pseuds/saltylikecrait
Summary: When FN-2187 is assigned to help Sira Ren, he expects that it's just another task to groom him as a potential officer. However, it quickly becomes obvious that the newest Knight of Ren isn't exactly what she seems to be at first glance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a bit of a risk on this idea. I wanted to write a story about stormtrooper conditioning but also wanted to write a Knight of Ren AU and decided to combine the two together. Most of my content for the First Order and their culture comes from tie-ins, however, some content is inspired by real-life organizations and governments with similar ideologies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FN-2187 is given an unusual assignment.

“Nice shot Eight-Seven!”

Underneath his matte white helmet, FN-2187 grinned knowing that his fellow cadets could not see how he reacted to their praise. Instead of letting the compliment of Nines go to his head, Eight-Seven focused on the continued pursuit of their target. A quick survey of the cityscape and the rooftops above them, told him they were walking right into a trap. To his left, on a tiny corner balcony, a sniper had made his nest.

There was something else about this place that made him uneasy.

Holding out his arm in a gesture to halt his squad mates from advancing, he said a quick order of, “Wait,” before he looked around the city square they had just entered.

He reached into his utility belt and removed a small, marble-like object, which he tossed into their quarter of the square. When the pebble hit the ground, a series of small, subsequent explosions filled the square.

Just as he thought. The sniper’s nest was only there to serve as an initial distraction but once the bombs went off the sniper jumped into action and took aim.

“Scatter. Hide,” said Slip, and the team lunged away to find cover.

Eight-Seven observed as Zeroes peaked out from behind a storefront and tried to shoot down the sniper, but the enemy was just out of reach. The position of the balcony made their situation a tricky one, but Eight-Seven could see if they could just get the sniper to move a bit to the left, Zereos could manage a hit in.

He aimed his blaster at the balcony next to the sniper and shot at a flowerpot. The sound and sudden movement of the ceramic breaking into pieces startled the sniper and caused him to move away from the area without conscious thought.

This was the opportunity for Zeroes. He aimed again and fired the blaster, this time striking the sniper. The impact of the bolt caused the man to stagger backwards against the building’s exterior wall and slump down to the ground. After a few moments, Eight-Seven did not register any more movement.

“Hah!” laughed Nines. “Take that Resistance scum!”

Checking the upper right corner of his visor screen, Eight-Seven noted that they only had a minute left to get to the final target, and he was certain he could see her just up ahead. “We’ve gotta move,” he warned his squad. “Run around the block. I’ll take the far end, Zeroes, you take the left, Nines, the right. Slip, you stay here and wait until you see our approach.”

“Got it,” confirmed Slip.

At a sprint, Eight-Seven and Nines moved around the block, splitting up once Nines had gotten to his turn. Eight-Seven kept going.

He finally reached his destination and began his entrance into the square, seeing that his squad was following his lead. 

A group of similarly dressed women stood in the square, crowding together when they saw the squad of stormtroopers approaching. They all wore deep blue long dresses with hoods that covered their hair. Their faces were all painted white with deep red lipstick that covered the top half of their lips and made a stripe down the center of their bottom lips. All of them looked nearly identical.

But the squad had to locate a specific woman in this group.

He could tell that Slip had no idea which woman was their target, but Zeros and Nines were watching them closely, observing. 

Fifteen seconds left…

By luck, Eight-Seven noticed one of the women make a split-second glance to the woman to her left. It was a fearful glance, like they were worried that something would give their identities away…

It could easily be a fluke, but Eight-Seven took his chance. 

“It’s her,” he announced, aiming his blaster at his selection.

“You sure?” asked Nines.

“Yeah,” he said.

The scenery faded away and Eight-Seven’s squad reemerged into reality, finding themselves back in a darkened room full of floor obstacles. The lights went up and FN-2187 squinted while his eyes readjusted to the lighting.

The door to the simulation room opened and the squad’s commanding officer entered, followed by another figure dressed entirely in black. 

The squad drew themselves up in respect at their commander’s approach. She ambled past each teammate, sizing them up and taking notes to herself. FN-2187 could see his bright white armor reflect in her perfectly shined chrome set.

Captain Phasma dwarfed everyone in the room, including the woman following her. Eight-Seven regarded this stranger and took in her appearance. 

She – and Eight-Seven could tell that the figure was a woman judging by her slender figure – stood at nearly the same height as him. Covered in black, FN-2187 could not see a single reveal of skin. Her outfit was mainly covered up by a simple, black mantel, but her legs had dull gray armor over a pair of dark leggings and the top of a pair of boots that seemed to wrap around her ankles and calves. 

Her black helmet was perhaps the part about her that made him the most uneasy, except for perhaps the lightsaber staff that was slung against her back. The helmet was simple in design and black like the rest of her outfit, but along the area of her eyes sat a huge strip of silver. It was modified with tech in some way, from what he could see, but FN-2187 could only make a guess for what it was for.

So this was Sira Ren, the youngest of the Knights of Ren.

She walked down the short line of cadets and looked them all up and down. She passed by Slip and Zeroes pretty quickly, but with Nines she took her time and then, when she seemed satisfied with her observation, moved on to Eight-Seven. 

A strange feeling passed over him when she stood in front of him and looked him over. It was like a strange, cold energy radiated from her very being. The Knights of Ren were known to be strong in the Force, but this was the first time that FN-2187 had been so close to one of the Knights. Was this the Force? What he was feeling here? 

There was a moment that passed between them as their visors matched up eye-to-eye. That energy from her seemed to warm just a fraction and suddenly the room did not feel so cold. FN-2187 was not one-hundred percent sure, but he thought they may have been looking at each other right in the eyes if their helmets didn’t hide them.

She then moved away and walked back around to Phasma. 

“Sufficient,” she reported. Her voice sounded mechanical, distorted.

Captain Phamsa nodded. “As you say, Lady Ren.” There was a small note of pride in her voice, but perhaps that was Eight-Seven’s imagination. 

Sira Ren moved towards the door, about to exit the room, but as she lifted her hand up to open it, she stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“What would you have done with the queen?” she asked.

No one answered her, not sure who she was talking to.

She repeated herself. “What would you have done with the queen?” Then she added, “FN-2187.”

He felt his heart stop for a moment and his mind raced as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Umm…” he began. “Take her captive.”

“Why?”

Eight-Seven took another moment to think. “She would serve more use to the Order alive than dead.” That felt like a logical answer. In truth, it didn’t feel right to kill the queen. She and her handmaidens didn’t even try to fight back in the simulation, unlike the sniper. 

Instead of verbally replying, Sira Ren only nodded and quietly stepped out of the room.

Confusion spilled over him. Was that the right answer? Was she testing him?

And even more confusing: why did she only address him?

* * *

He startled when he placed his helmet on his head to prepare for the day ahead of him the following morning.

In flashing red letters, he read _Report to Captain Phasma_ and dreaded what it meant for him. FN-2187 had a feeling it had something to do with his simulator scores the day before, but he wasn’t sure.

Did he fail?

Telling his squad not to wait up for him to go to breakfast, he pulled on his gloves as quickly as he could. Hopefully, whatever Phasma had to say to him would not take long and he could get to the mess hall in time before morning drills began.

Slip glanced at him nervously before he put on his helmet and left their sleeping quarters with Zeroes and Nines.

Taking one last deep breath, Eight-Seven checked his armor for any faults or smudges before he walked out of the small room and turned in the opposite direction of the mess hall.

Phasma was easy to find, not because of her height and armor, but because she could always be found in the hangar of the _Finalizer_ in the morning, giving troops orders and hearing reports.

“Reporting, ma’am.” Eight-Seven stood at attention, waiting for his commander’s orders.

“New assignment, FN-2187,” she told him. 

He paused for a moment, shocked. “Ma’am?” He was only a cadet, expected to graduate into the ranks soon, but still just a cadet with no actual ground experience. 

“A request was put in for you last night. From Lady Ren.”

The image of the woman in black armor and a black mask appeared in his mind. He gulped and wondered what she wanted him for. 

Phasma continued. “You will report each night at her quarters. Your assignment is to observe her sleep. In the morning, you will be dismissed, and you will then eat with your peers and sleep until the evening. Until further notice, you are dismissed from all other duties except evening drills and training.”

Eight-Seven’s eyes were wide when he heard her instructions. This assignment was… odd, to say the least, but they also made him incredibly nervous. He did not know Sira Ren’s behavior patterns, but he knew her master, Kylo Ren. He was unpredictable, violent, and prone to lashing out at machinery and equipment out of anger and frustration. If she was anything like the man who trained her…

“And I’m to… stay inside her quarters during this time?” he confirmed.

Phasma nodded. “That is your order.”

“Anything else that I should know?”

She thought for a moment. “Lady Ren will give you more details about the assignment, I’m sure.” Then she moved closer to him and lowered her voice. “As you observe her, note her behavior. If she is exhibiting… any _abnormalities,_ you are to report to me.” Standing back, Phasma went back to her previous commanding stance. “Are your orders clear?”

He snapped a salute. “Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

The scheduled time for breakfast reappeared on his helmet’s screen. He was sure he would be thrown in a loop after he ate, knowing he would not join his squad for morning training drills.

Still, Eight-Seven would never pass up the opportunity to get some extra sleep, even if the trade-off was to be locked in a room with a dangerous Force-user all night.

* * *

Breakfast was, to say the least, one big and awkward conversation.

Arriving at his usual table with a metal tray carrying a vegetable omelet and a cup of green fruit juice, FN-2187 sat down and ate his meal, hoping that none of the squad brought up his tardiness.

The food was good. He liked it when some sort of egg dish was on the menu, preferring it to some of the more _unique_ delicacies of whatever world they could get food from. The menu varied the majority of a standard cycle, revolving around what the First Ordercould secure for their food supply and this often ended up consisting largely of seasonal Outer Rim produce. Some of the older stormtroopers lamented that the cadets had no idea what it used to be like in the First Order mess hall. They use to have to eat protein rations when the supply grew thin; the youth onboard never knew a time like that and hence were unappreciative of their food. That made all the cadets roll their eyes.

The food couldn’t keep his team from asking questions, however.

“What did Phasma want?” Nines had been the first to talk after he had downed a quarter of his meal.

Eight-seven sighed, realizing that he couldn’t hide his assignment after tonight and that trying to cover it would be a pointless waste of time. “I got assigned to help Lady Ren,” he started to explain.

The looks on the faces of the squad ranged from shocked to surprised to proud to fearful. This was one of those rare moments that Eight-Seven wished that helmets were required to be on; he wouldn’t have to see their expressions if they were. This was the only time outside of downtime hours that he got to glimpse the shocking red of Nines' hair, the thin scar traveling down Zeroes' cheek, how Slip could somehow manage to pale three shades lighter than his naturally light skin tone when anxious.

“Woah,” said Zeroes. “And what does that mean?”

“Not much.” Eight-seven shrugged. “Just guard duty, really.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail yet, not when the assignment made him nervous. No one knew much about the newest addition to the Knights of Ren. She didn’t seem as bad as the other Knights, but everyone knew they had a reputation for violence for a reason. It was very possible that no one had seen the worst of Sira Ren just yet and in all likelihood, she was just as violent as the rest of them.

He explained that his training with them in the mornings and afternoons had been cut so he could sleep, but he made sure to mention that they would still see each other at dinner and in evening drills. He had to keep in shape after all.

Nines leaned back in his chair, thinking. “So if you do well on the assignment, that’s going to be a pretty nice connection to have, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying,” Nines stopped, trying to come up with the best way to say what he wanted to say, “that serving Sira Ren is going to look good on your record, Eight-Seven. You’ve already got the best scores out of all of us, maybe even out of the whole FN pool. If you wanted to, you could easily be put on the track to become an officer with her favor.”

The thing was, over all his worrying about the assignment and over Sira Ren, he had never thought of this. Cadets that were assigned to special assignments and succeeded were often a shoe-in for an officer role and usually got the promotion after a year or two of successful combat. Perhaps Phasma had put in word on his behalf to Lady Ren to help her decide on the right cadet for the assignment,

“Well,” Zeroes chimed in, “beats sanitation duty any day.”

Everyone agreed to that.

But someone was being oddly quiet. Eight-seven looked over to Slip, who was absentmindedly cutting up his omelet but barely eating any.

“What’s wrong?” asked Eight-Seven.

A sigh came before a long silence. Then: “My scores for the last couple of sims have been too low. Phasma’s angry.”

It wasn’t a shock to anyone, really. Slip had always been barely scraping by, but if Phasma was growing angry…

“I thought you did well yesterday,” Zeroes commented.

“Not good enough, I guess.” Slip took a small bite of food and sighed. “At this rate, I’m going to be on permanent sanitation duty.”

Knowing it wasn’t helping to talk about his own impending promotion while his teammate was struggling, FN-2187 decided it was better not to speak. 

Luckily, the daily education video music played over the mess hall intercoms, breaking off any further conversation. They were a daily part of cadet life with rotating topics and speakers each day of a standard week. Today would feature Cardinal, the program overseer for the youngest cadets, who would normally offer tidbits of useful advice to the cadets. Some days, FN-2187 missed being under his supervision.

Except, the person on the screen today wasn’t Cardinal.

The video wasn’t an education video either. It was a First Order newscast.

 _“We don’t need farmers anymore,”_ a human man – a New Republic senator said in a narrative quote – _“we have droids for that.”_

The video then changed over to one of the communication officers explaining the New Republic's belief that droids should replace sentient beings in farm work, a move that would displace millions and send the poorer worlds spiraling into an era of extreme poverty and chaos. 

This video was showcasing the wrongdoings of the enemy, the New Republic. Usually, they only saw these at the dinner video, which meant that they would likely see another news video tonight.

“Where’s Cardinal?” Slip whispered.

Everyone shrugged, except for Nines.

“There’s a rumor he’s sick and taking time off. Works himself half-to-death, Cardinal.”

A round of boos and insults echoed through the mess hall. The only time that this behavior was allowed was during videos covering the New Republic. FN-2187 wondered how an intergalactic organization so corrupt could ever be put into power in the first place and how they could be so successful keeping the relative peace within their member worlds in the process. The Empire struggled to keep their own worlds stable and in order, how could the beings that overthrew them do better?

There was something missing to this story, he realized, but he knew that if he asked, it would be a one-way ticket to reconditioning. The New Republic was the enemy, and the First Order made that very clear. Questioning that position, even if it was just a simple request for clarification, was undesirable by the First Order.

He went back to his meal, trying to tune out the bleating noises from his fellow cadets, and tried to think about his night ahead instead.

* * *

He stood at the door of her quarters in the upper decks of the _Finalizer._ This was where higher officers lived. FN-2187, a stormtrooper cadet, had never been allowed up here before. It was hard to be certain, but it looked like to him that the living quarters in this hallway were significantly bigger than the bunks that the troopers stayed in. And these quarters only were used by one or two people at a time…

Knowing he couldn’t wait outside her door any longer, he reached out and hit the buzzer on the wall.

After a few moments, the intercom crackled. _“Yes?”_

“FN-2187, reporting, Lady Ren.”

She did not respond, but the door opened a second later and he slipped inside.

The room was surprising sparse, but Eight-Seven remembered that Knights were reassigned to different Star Destroyers pretty regularly and hence, they probably did not have a need for a lot. It was bigger than his squad’s sleeping quarters, but not by much. It fit a double-bed in one corner and a small, round table in the opposite with a single chair beside it. Upon entering, he spotted two doors to his right and he guessed that they led to a ‘fresher and closet space.

What caught his eye first, however, was the view. The viewport in this room was massive and if the _Finalizer_ was stationed near any worlds, Sira Ren would probably get a gorgeous view. But even now, traveling through space, it was still beautiful with the way the stars dotted the darkness as far as the eye could see.

Then he noticed the little details, and some of them surprised him.

She slept on two pillows, he noted and preferred the left side of the bed, closest to the viewport. The bedding was not the standard First Order sheets and blankets, but rather it looked to be a fleece blanket that was dyed the color of rust. The bed was made, but not neatly, like someone had used it recently.

On the table sat a mug and saucer next to a charging holopad. The mug was clean, like it was waiting to be used the following morning, and FN-2187 deducted that she ate her breakfast alone in the room. 

But what was the most shocking piece in the room was the small vase of flowers on the raised platform under the viewport. 

They were a bulb flower that came from an uninhabited moon that the _Finalizer_ recently explored, B-2. In wild space, the First Order encountered many unmapped worlds with no names and so these worlds were given a letter and number combination based on where they were found and whether they were a planet or a moon or a sun.

Eight-Seven wondered if Sira Ren had someone pick the flowers for her or if she got them herself. They were a yellow flower with stains of red on the petals. Not edible, from what could be observed, but safe to touch and admire.

“You can come in,” she said, impatiently.

He startled when he finally gathered the courage to look at her as he moved more into the room and the door shut with a hiss behind him. She wasn’t wearing her helmet, and Eight-Seven found himself staring at the face of a young woman that was perhaps around his age. Her skin was pale and her dark brown hair was pulled back into three buns.

Without her helmet, Sira Ren was not nearly as frightening but Eight-Seven knew that looks were deceiving. 

“I was going to have to take it off anyway.” She knew what he was thinking. “Do you know why you’re here, FN-2187?”

“My orders were to observe you sleep,” he told her.

She hummed. “I see. Well, I did write the request like that. Actually, FN-2187, I really need you here to wake me up if I have nightmares."

He was confused, and he knew she could sense that.

“I’ve had nightmares for the past couple of weeks,” she elaborated. “I used to just wake up and go back to sleep, but lately, I’ve been destroying things in my room. I’d rather not make the situation even worse.”

Eight-Seven was wary of the request, but he nodded. “So you… just want me to wake you up?”

Sira Ren grinned. “I won’t hurt you. I can sense that fear.” She then looked him up and down. “Take the helmet off, though. Seeing that when I first wake up might make me break that promise. You can take off the armor too, if you want. You’ll be here all night.”

The request made him stop to think. In all his years of cadet training he had been told the exact opposite about his armor. When a stormtrooper was on assignment, he was never to take his armor or helmet off. 

“Is this a trick, ma’am? To test my loyalty to the First Order?”

She seemed to realize what the request implied and her eyes widened. “Well, if it was, you’d pass right now. You’ve got quite a mind.” Looking around the room, she pursed her lips as she glanced at the chair by the table. “I should request a better chair,” she commented. “I’m afraid that the only chair for you right now is that one.”

“That’s fine.”

“If you want to take your armor off or not, that’s up to you. I won’t mention it to anyone. But take your helmet off.”

With a grimace, FN-2187 reached to remove his helmet. It felt strange to do so when not in his quarters. He had never removed his helmet except in front of his commanding officers, his squad, and medical practitioners. To remove it and reveal his face to a stranger, one that was a Knight of Ren, made his anxiety rise.

The cool air of the temperature-controlled room hit his skin, and he closed his eyes before he looked back at her.

Her face was thoughtful, quiet even, as she took in his face. Then, when she was done, her mouth twitched in a small smile that made FN-2187 realize that her smile was very sweet and genuine. Without a lightsaber and a mask, Sira Ren easily would have looked like another cadet to him, maybe even someone he could consider a friend. Removing the danger and mystery from her created a new vision of herself, one that was human.

“Yes,” she finally said, though quietly. “That’ll do. I’ll change in the 'fresher and then I’ll get into bed and sleep. There’s a datapad on the table, if you want to use it. I give you permission to read or watch videos… Quietly,” she added.

When she returned from the ‘fresher, Eight-Seven was sitting on the chair, patiently waiting for her return. Her hair was down and she was dressed in a simple gray sleepshirt and pants combination. Eight-Seven looked at her arms, bare for the first time in his memory, and noticed that clusters of freckles dotted her pale skin.

She spoke again. “And one more thing: if I do wake up, just… talk to me.”

Nodding at him, she climbed into the bed and lifted her hand to turn the lights off using the Force. 

They didn’t speak again until the next morning.

He decided to take her up on her offer to use the datapad, planning to read up on the latest news in the stormtooper program. At least that would be of some interest to him, maybe he could even find out what really happened to Cardinal so he could take that information back to his squad.

To his shock, he discovered that the datapad was connected to the _New Republic’s_ HoloNet. Access to it was forbidden to everyone except for a few that were assigned to keep tabs on what was happening with the enemy. Knights of Ren also got that privilege too, it seemed. He wondered what Sira Ren would have need of it for. It was bound to be full of propaganda and rewritten history; not any real use to a stormtrooper cadet that needed to know the real facts about the galaxy.

FN-2187 wondered what he would find on the HoloNet and if he should proceed. He was curious, but he didn’t want to get in trouble.

He paused before continuing his search. Should he? Shouldn’t he? If the HoloPad was assigned to Sira Ren, it was likely its use was not being tracked and that no one would know what he was getting up to. He could always turn it off and use the other applications on the datapad.

Deciding it was okay to just try it, he swiped his finger across the screen to unlock it and accidentally hit a bookmarked link. He panicked, afraid that he already just blew his assignment because surely whatever Sira Ren had bookmarked had to be important and confidential. Certainly not for the eyes of a cadet.

A recording of a pair of Loth-Cats jumping through hoops played and Eight-Seven couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. This was a bookmark of hers? He would have expected a video of fighting techniques or even a possible lead to the whereabouts of Luke Skywalker, instead, he was watching her private collection of Loth-Cat vids.

Looking over at the sleeping form of the young woman in the bed, he realized that he had been given permission to stumble upon the most private aspects of her life. It was weird, and the recording added to the humanity behind the mask, the humanity that he would have never had thought of had she not taken off that mask. At the same time, he felt a little uncomfortable that he was seeing into her private life. What if she didn't want him to see these?

He shook the thought away as he made a search on the New Republic. Thinking back to that senator’s quote about farmers, he decided to enter it in his search. It took a few times and edits to the search request, but eventually he seemed to have finally gotten it right. It came up, but not as the same quote he had first heard on the recording.

 _“We don’t need farmers, we have droids for that,”_ the senator began. _“That’s what the factories want us to think. They want to sell us their products, replace millions of workers around the galaxy without supporting them to find a new livelihood…”_

The First Order had cut out that last bit, creating a fabricated speech that encouraged the criticism of the senator and his beliefs despite every soldier knowing that droids were the ones left to most of the domestic duties that even the cadets were not assigned to. They did their laundry, cleaned the mess, even handled monitoring the databases when no one wanted the humans to waste their time managing the technology when their brilliant minds could be put to use elsewhere. But all anyone heard were the words _New Republic_ and suddenly that fact did not matter. What mattered was that the New Republic had said it and anything that was said by the enemy of the First Order was, without any doubt, bad.

He looked back over to Lady Ren, relieved that she was still sound asleep. He wondered what she would do to him if she woke up and found him watching this.

Actually, he wondered if she would do anything at all. She gave him permission to use the HoloNet knowing it wasn’t the version that the First Order monitored and created content specifically for.

It was strange, but if Sira Ren was this relaxed in her rules for this assignment, he might find his nights here to be enjoyable. He would make a final judgement after he saw what she was like when bad dreams hit.

The first night passed without incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be updated each Sunday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Building trust can be a slow process.

“Tell me about your day.”

A week into the assignment and they were already on a familiar routine. He would enter her room, and she would ask about his day – which mainly revolved around her sleep schedule to begin with. Then she might make a comment or ask a question for him to elaborate on. Afterwards, she would get ready for bed and sleep and the night would pass quietly while he read a novel or did a little research on some subjects that interested.

And not to mention, he was learning more and more about the New Republic, their politics, and their people, but he wouldn't admit to that.

“I went to breakfast after you dismissed me. Today’s menu was… a protein bowl with fruit. Then I slept for exactly eight hours before I reported for evening training. We worked with weapons today.”

She eyed him curiously. “And what were you given to fight?”

“I was given a baton and my sparring partner had a laser axe.”

“Are you any good?”

He shrugged. “Decent, I suppose. Phasma doesn’t correct my form or technique the way she does with others.”

Sira Ren nodded quietly, satisfied with his answer. This was when she would normally turn to change in the ‘fresher.

But today, FN-2187 had the courage to turn the question onto her. “And how was your day, might I ask?” He was a little nervous to ask, but if she began to have nightmares, maybe he could figure out a pattern behind them. Getting an idea of any potential triggers might help him get off the assignment sooner rather than later.

A look of shock etched her face but then it quickly turned into a small smile. Obviously, she had not expected FN-2187 to continue the conversation. “It was better than most days,” she told him. “Quiet. I like quiet. Just a day of looking at reports. No missions, no meetings with General Hux, no fighting. Just quiet.”

He was a little surprised by her reply, assuming that all Knights of Ren enjoyed fighting and going off on missions to serve the Supreme Leader. Kylo Ren certainly seemed to enjoy it anyway. Sira Ren was the only other Knight that he had encountered so far, so perhaps he should have realized that each Knight might fulfill a specific role and vary in their personalities. However, he noted that some days Lady Ren didn’t seem to leave her room at all. One evening he even found her already curled up in her bed, as if she had never moved from the spot he last saw her in.

There was also that feeling he got whenever he was around her, the coldness he felt when he first encountered her. He thought it was the Force or something like that at first, now he knew it as the anger that always seemed to surround her.

Sometimes he saw her roaming the halls seemingly aimlessly after overseeing the stormtrooper training. She had not reappeared in any of the training sessions he attended in the evening, but he saw her in the hangar of the _Finalizer,_ looking over the TIEs and inspecting shuttles after dinner one night. Everyone left her alone, assuming she did not want to be bothered and not wanting to be in close proximity to a Knight. During the day, even if they passed each other in the corridors, neither of them gave acknowledgement to the other. It was just the way things were around here.

“That’s… that’s good.” He didn’t really know what else to say.

Then, like always, she went to the ‘fresher to dress for the night and returned quietly to get into bed.

This time, she said a hushed _goodnight_ to him before she went to sleep.

* * *

“So what’s it like, being on assignment for Sira Ren?”

Nines was looking at him with a serious sense of curiosity. They were in the mess hall for breakfast, helmets off. 

This also happened to be some of the few times during the day you could really converse with your squad.

Zeroes and Slip were also looking at him with awe and waiting for what he had to say. When he returned from duty that first time, they were shocked to see him still alive. It seemed that they had convinced themselves that FN-2187 would enter the quarters of Sira Ren, never to be seen again.

Eight-Seven shrugged. “It’s just guard duty; nothing interesting.” He really didn’t want to tell them what exactly went on during the assignments and was afraid to be overheard by a commanding officer. Having a night to do whatever quiet activity he felt like doing probably would not go over so well with them and he didn’t want to get himself – or Sira Ren, for that matter – in trouble. Sooner or later, Phasma would grow impatient with Sira Ren's lack of ability to solve her own personal issues and likely take him off the assignment. He wanted to enjoy his time to do what he pleased for as long as he could. It seemed like his squad believed that he was guarding Lady Ren from potential intruders, most likely assassins, and that sort of assignment really didn't need a lot of detail for someone else to understand. It kept them from asking too many questions, thankfully.

“Scary," he decided to humor them. "She's not as bad as Kylo, but she's certainly dangerous." If anything, he could preserve her reputation without going into too much detail.

The three of them muttered a bit, taking this information into account. He could tell that they wanted to ask more questions, but they knew they had to finish their breakfast before they were called to morning drills.

Eight-Seven decided that it was a blessing to get that time to sleep in the bunks, hoping that when he saw them in the evening, they would have moved on to a different topic.

* * *

There's another nightmare that next night.

She was usually quiet when she slept, curled up into herself and laying on her side facing the wall like she is trying to hide herself away from the world. Sometimes she’d sleepily wake up in the middle of the night and stare at the flowers under the viewport for a moment before going right back to sleep. Those rare moments were so quiet and quick that FN-2187 was certain he missed a few.

That was why he knew that something was wrong when she began to mutter in her sleep and toss side to side, getting tangled in her blanket.

Setting the datapad down – he was in the middle of reading a fun novel about a Jedi adventure in unexplored space; also banned by the First Order - he stood up from the recliner that Lady Ren had ordered to be brought in, and approached her bedside.

“Lady Ren?”

She did not answer him, but she didn’t wake up or quiet down either. He tried to rouse her again and panicked when she did not wake and the blanket lifted up like an invisible string was pulling on it.

He startled when he heard a crash behind him and turned around to find that a pitcher that had sat on her table had burst into pieces. Water poured out everywhere and began to run over the table’s edge.

Eight-Seven didn’t want to find out if other items in the room were floating, especially not that lightsaber staff resting near the bed. Drawing up courage, he touched an ungloved hand – he was getting braver about his armor and had begun to strip off his gloves and joint armor each night – to her shoulder.

“Lady Ren. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

With a startle, her eyes snapped open, and the blanket fell back to the bed. She gulped a deep breath and then turned over to look at him in the eyes. Her eyes – hazel, he realized after a few nights, he thought they had been brown before – were wide and terrified.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “I… yes… thank you.”

Sitting up, Sira Ren swung her legs over the side of the bed and then noticed the broken pitcher and the mess it had left. She placed her hands over her face, shook her head, and took another couple of deep breaths.

FN-2187 went to a panel on the wall where the room’s main door was and pressed a button to call a cleaning droid. 

“Lady Ren-"

 _“Rey,”_ she corrected. “Call me Rey.”

And as soon as she said that, she uncovered her face and her eyes were wide again as she stared up at him.

“I… That’s my birth name,” she confessed. “I have no idea why I just told you that.” She paused, looking at him with uncertainty. “If you report me tonight, I won’t be angry. You’re just doing your job.”

He thought about what he should do. To be honest, he didn’t find her behavior unusual; she had night terrors, and the Force made it harder to deal with. And he didn’t think her sudden reveal of her birth name was odd; unlike the stormtroopers, she had come from a world far different from the First Order. The cadets gave each other nicknames as a recognition of individualism, even as the First Order condemned the concept. She must have had a name once, maybe a family. FN-2187 wondered how she ended up as a Knight of Ren in the first place. She was so much younger than the other ones.

And a part of him wondered what it was like to have a name that wasn’t just a string of numbers; a name with a meaning, given by someone with love.

Answering her, he shook his head. “I’m not going to report you, _Rey,”_ he tried the name on his tongue, finding that the familiarity of using it oddly pleasing. Then he stopped himself. “I won’t use that name again,” he stuttered, “if you don’t want me to.”

She pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. There was a strange look in her eyes, a softness he had never seen there before. “You can call me that, only when we’re alone. We’ll both be in trouble if anyone finds out. I know what they’ll do to me.” She almost seemed to shudder at the thought. “I don’t know what they would do to a cadet.”

The cleaning droid arrived and rang at the intercom. FN-2187 let it in and waited quietly with Sira Ren as they watched it remove the broken, sharp pieces of ceramic and mop up and dry the water. He thought about her request and what it meant to be one of the only people to know her birth name.

When the droid left the room a few minutes later, he spoke again.

“Why did you choose me for this assignment?” Phasma had said that Sira Ren had selected him and he had wondered why from the moment he got his orders. There must have been a reason. Surely his test scores weren’t something to warrant himself to being assigned to glorified guard duty.

She looked him in the eyes, and when she answered, he knew she was telling the truth. “Since I passed my trials, I've been assigned to oversee the training programs on this star destroyer. I- you _think_ differently from the rest of them. I thought maybe that I could trust you not to report me,” she confessed with a tiny smile. “I suppose this means I was right.”

Ah, so that explained some of this. To be honest, he did not think he was selected for this particular job because of his test scores, and well, Knights didn't exactly have a reputation to do something out of the goodness of their hearts. Sira Ren had a motive in selecting him for this, though by First Order standards, her motive was far more tolerable than what he would have expected of some of the other officers. There was something more to this story, he thought. His orders specifically made it clear that he was to report her for behavior that was not considered normal or did not show loyalty to the Order. Someone had suspicions of her loyalty to the First Order.

Her eyes widened with sudden realization, though Eight-Seven had no idea what exactly she was thinking. “Do you have a nickname? I know that the cadets usually give each other nicknames.”

Eight-Seven was a little embarrassed when he had to explain that he didn’t have one. “I don’t think the other cadets like me much,” he told her. “I’m definitely left out of the group a lot.”

“They’re threatened by you,” Sira – no, Rey – noted. “I’ve seen your test scores. You have the makings of an officer.”

She wasn't the only one to think that, obviously. Still, her word held more weight than the other cadets'. He said, “Really? I mean, Phasma never acts like it.”

“Well, no, she never shows favoritism. Actually, I don’t think Phasma is capable of having a favorite. She’s her number one.” It sounded like a warning, but Eight-Seven wasn’t sure. “If she complains of the time I’m taking from your training, let me know…”

With a yawn, Rey crawled back into bed. “You did well, FN-2187. Goodnight.”

She quickly fell back into a deep sleep. Eight-Seven laid back in the recliner, deciding that he could use the time to take a nap as well.

* * *

Thinking about what Rey had said about Phasma, he found his own thoughts distracted him and was really off his game during evening training.

The problem was that now he found himself glancing at her, watching everything from her body language to when she made notes. He wondered what those notes said. Probably a combination of positive and negative things about cadets, but he also wondered what mental notes she was making for herself.

From time to time, he heard rumors of cadets dying in freak accidents or suddenly disappearing under Phasma’s watch, and until today he had always waved them off as just rumors. Sure, he was positive that the occasional cadet had an accident and unfortunately not make it out alive, that was plausible, but an accident caused by Phasma? That seemed pretty unlikely.

Yet now, he wasn’t so sure.

A mechanical, feminine voice sounded behind him. “FN-2187, your scores are falling tonight.”

He startled so hard that he practically physically jumped in his spot. Right now, he was supposed to be practicing hand-to-hand combat with Slip, but even tonight, Slip was outmatching him. At least it seemed to boost his teammate's confidence a bit.

“I-" he began, not knowing what to say.

Even under the chrome armor, he could tell that she was frowning. “Report to me after training.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He dreaded the moment when the evening was over and the cadets were dismissed, but the moment came to pass and he approached his commander.

“Report on your assignment, FN-2187,” she ordered.

He said nothing at first, thinking of how he should word his report. Phasma would know if he was lying about Rey's nightmares, but he could omit the other stuff that suggested that Rey was not conforming to the expectations placed on her. But he needed to be careful. One wrong word and he could tip off his commander that something wasn’t right about the situation.

“Lady Ren has me observe her sleep each night, ma’am, and has me wake her up when she had nightmares. She’s had… five so far under my watch.”

“And her behavior?”

He didn’t really want to rat out Rey for being a lot more considerate for him than she should, he was starting to like her and looked forward to their nights together.

“Nothing strange. Sometimes she breaks things when she has nightmares, with the Force, but that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He could tell Phasma wasn’t quite buying this.

“That’s all,” he confirmed, hoping he sounded convincing.

A pause, then, “Dismissed, FN-2187.”

If he wasn’t still playing up the confidence act, he would have actually made a sigh of relief.

* * *

_Dex's Diner is set to open a location on Yavin IV. Those familiar with the diner on Coruscant..._

“Do you remember your family?”

He startled out of his reading, shocked that she was still awake. “Huh?”

“Your family, do you remember them?” Rey was lying on her side, resting her head on her hand and looking at him.

Since she asked him to call her by her real name a week before, they had become a lot more comfortable with each other. She still had nightmares frequently, but Eight-Seven had noticed a pattern in her sleep and was better at knowing when to wake her up before the nightmares began, hence he was still needed. He knew that soon, Phasma might start pulling him aside for other missions. His fellow cadets were ready to graduate from the academy and soon they would be asked to join ground deployment. Eight-Seven liked his nights with Rey, and he hoped that if he had to go, it wasn’t often.

There was also his concern of Phasma’s suspicions. He knew she was reporting to someone else – and FN-2187 had the sinking feeling that person was either General Hux or Kylo Ren himself – but he wondered what kind of behavior she was specifically looking for and what Rey would face if he made the mistake of unintentionally revealing her treatment of him. Did Knights of Ren face reconditioning the way wayward stormtroopers did? He hated the thought of leaving Rey to that fate. Those reconditioned stormtroopers reemerged days, sometimes weeks later, with strange mechanical alterations attached to their bodies and computer like personas. It was like they weren’t even human anymore. He did not wish that fate on anyone.

He replied to her question. “I don’t remember them. Sometimes I try to, but I’m not even sure when I ended up with the First Order. I might even have been an orphan. Who knows.” That had always been his attitude. Everyone in the First Order knew where they found new _recruits_ and just accepted it as fact. The oldest generation of soldiers, technicians, and officers had often been from war-torn worlds and knew that they were orphaned. Some even remembered parents or siblings. For all Finn knew, that could have very well what had happened to him.

But a small part of him wondered what his family had been like. He must have at least had a mother. Maybe she even loved him. He really didn't like to think on the fact of how the First Order took control of worlds in wild space and the Outer Rim or how that might have played into his recruitment.

Rey looked a little sad at his response, but he could tell that she was trying to hide it. Eight-Seven noted how she was nothing like he expected a Knight of Ren to be. She looked the part and had a dark control of the Force, but unlike the others, she tried to stay unnoticed and didn’t do any damage to equipment or humans or droids. At times, there was almost a gentle nature about her.

And, for a reason he still could not quite place, she was angry. Perhaps that was a trait of all the Knights, but Rey’s anger was quiet and lingering. It lived with her instead of showing up in bursts like he had seen with her master. There was something fueling that anger and sometimes, she would return from being planetside radiating with it. The next couple of days followed with Rey being in a mood, one where she rarely left her room and opted to stay in bed almost all day. When she rose in the morning, she had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept at all and her eyes looked dull as she stared out the window to whatever view she had.

The nights that followed often were the ones where her dreams became nightmares and she would thrash and cry in her sleep, being all the more likely of her accidentally breaking something.

He wondered what brought that anger out.

“Where did you come from before you became a Knight?” he decided to ask, since they were on the topic of origins.

Rey paused, like she was contemplating if she should tell him anything. Then she made a decision.

“Jakku,” was her simple answer.

Eight-Seven raised his eyebrows. “That junkyard?”

She rolled her eyes. 

“Did you live there with your family?” he asked.

A sad look in her eyes combined with that quiet anger of hers. He was starting to think her childhood had something to do with that anger.

“No,” she sighed. “No. My parents left me there when I was... four or five. They promised to come back for me but…”

“They never did,” Eight-Seven guessed.

“No. I lived there for ten years, scavenging parts for food. Then the Supreme Leader found me and took me in.”

She didn’t elaborate further, meaning she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He dropped the subject.

“You know,” she finally broke the silence, “I might have come up with a name for you, if you’d like one.”

“Oh?” He had not expected that from her.

A little embarrassed, Rey rubbed her hands together. “It’s not… that creative, but you’re of the FN call signs, so I thought… _Finn?”_

He thought about the name, even trying it on his tongue. Eight-Seven found that he liked it and felt very touched that she would take the time to think of a name for him. The fact that she would give a cadet that was supposed to serve her a name meant more to him than any placement recommendation ever would. Not even his squadmates had taken the time to think of a name for him and arguably, they were the closest things to friends he had ever had.

Yes, _Finn._ Finn would do.

“I like it,” he said.

She grinned, her cheeks flushing a little pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author notes:
> 
> Despite the small number of chapters, this fic takes place over many weeks, instead of days. 
> 
> While Rey is a Knight of Ren, the Force is not really a big topic in this story. I imagine that both the light and the dark sides by default are neutral elements and that what really factors into whether or not you are good or bad depends on what you do with it. This Rey uses the dark side, but unlike other fics, she has a quiet control of it.
> 
> I also believe that Finn is somewhere on a scale of Force-sensitivity, however, I do not like to contribute that to the reason why he breaks out of conditioning because in real life, many people leave strict regimes without some mythical power helping them. It would also mean that other stormtroopers would not be able to do the same unless they also were Force-sensitive, which is an idea that does not run well with me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best secrets are usually the hardest to keep.

“Wait! Come back!”

It was a familiar scene to Rey. Her, a child of just five-years old, screaming and begging a leaving shuttle to turn around, her arm in the grip of the Croulate, Unkar Plutt.

“Quiet, girl,” he commanded.

She cried and cried, the distress and anxiety of being abandoned easily the worst experience of her life. Who was this stranger anyway, the one she was left with? She didn’t know him; didn’t trust him to take care of her. A small part of her hoped that it was all a joke, that the shuttle would turn back and someone would pop out and tell her that was to teach her to quit throwing tantrums or crying to get her way. She would never cry or ask for anything again if they just turned back.

 _I’ll come back for you, sweetheart,_ the voice of someone warm and loved echoed repeatedly in her mind. 

For fifteen years, the promise haunted her. For ten years, she waited on that dusty junkyard planet for a promise to be fulfilled. 

No one came looking for her.

The memory shatters like glass, leaving her in a new environment. 

The overwhelming feeling of distress and anxiety was still there, knotting in her stomach, but Jakku was gone and Rey was not a child but a young teen barely experiencing the beginnings of womanhood. She crouched behind a stone with weariness, tears blending with the drops of rain hitting her cheeks. Looking out into the night, she searched but saw nothing but darkness and rain.

A mechanical hand reached out and touched her shoulder with gentleness. It was a comforting gesture in a terrifying time.

“I’ll come back for you sweetheart,” a man’s voice whispers.

And then, the hand was gone.

“No. No,” she said with alarm and reached out in a desperate, failed attempt to bring the person back to her side. “Come back!”

This scene wasn’t new to her anymore. For months now, she would see this nightmare replay over and over. Sometimes the dream would play out longer. Sometimes Rey wondered what would happen if she waited until she woke up on her own, or at least if the sudden sound of crashing objects around her didn’t jolt her from her sleep. Would she see more? The dream felt real to her. She could feel the raindrops sharp on her numbed skin, she could hear the screams and death cries of multiple beings somewhere beyond the rock she was hiding behind…

Finn would wake her up any moment, she was sure of it.

But this time, the dream went further and something new happened. 

The sound of an igniting lightsaber from behind her startled her, and she began to cry. A figure, dressed in black, approached her and Rey backed into the rock, finding herself trapped. She reached for the lightsaber that was sticking out of the pocket of her sleeping pants.

The angry, flickering red glow of a crossguard lightsaber was the last thing she saw before she woke up.

“Rey?” Her name was said as a familiar touch shook her arm. “Rey, wake up!”

Her face was wet with her tears when she finally came gasping back to awareness. Without fully making a conscious decision, she flung herself up against Finn and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, placing her head in the spot where his neck and shoulder met.

This wasn’t the first time she had found herself touching him without realizing that she was doing it. It was a slow process, but nonetheless, she broke through the walls she had built for her own survival. 

It started with small gestures. Some days she brushed her hand against his in a brief gesture of thanks. Rey was not sure if this was longing for touch on her part, but with Finn, she found the occurrence far more common than she dared to admit. Sometimes when he even reached back.

She hoped that this time, she did not make him uncomfortable.

Rey felt him tense up and then, to her relief, he relaxed. “Hey, you all right?” He paused for a moment before placing one of his hands against her back.

“Fine,” Rey insisted with a squeak. “Just... fine.”

“Well, okay then.” Finn loosened his arm around her and moved to pull away when Rey reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“Wait, Finn. Can you… can you stay with me?”

He made a gesture to the room with his hand. “I’m right here with you.” She looked over at the recliner and realized by the position of the footrest and the back that Finn might have been napping.

“Were you sleeping?” she asked, looking at the recliner again before looking back to him

“Not really.”

She paused and looked at him. “You were having a nightmare, too,” she observed, knowing what the haunted look in his eyes implied, then shook her head to let the incident go. “Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep flat?”

Finn faltered. Since he arrived back from the Pressy’s Tumble mining colony, Finn’s mood had gone downhill. He was always quiet, but she noted that this was a different kind of quiet and she recognized it as a melancholy similar to her own when she came back from a mission she did not want to go on.

To answer her, with a shrug, Finn grunted, “I suppose.”

“You can sleep next to me. You won’t bother me.” 

It was a very bold request, but in the last few weeks, Rey had considered Finn to be the only person she trusted in the First Order. He was friendly and patient with her when her nightmares hit and he continued to hold his promise that he would never tell a soul about her quiet rebellion against the Knights of Ren. There were nights when she would wake up to find him reading on her datapad, learning about the world outside of the walls of the _Finalizer_ and sometimes they talked about what he was reading. At times, she would even tell him details about her childhood.

Rey could remember a few things before Jakku, but not a lot. Still, at least on Jakku she was free from the hold that the Supreme Leader placed on her. Even with the promise of regular meals, being a Knight of Ren felt even more stifling then the hot desert air. There were times that Rey wished that she had never agreed to joined, not after everything the Supreme Leader and her master had put her through.

She had messed up a few days before, on her last visit to the Supreme Leader. Rey knew that she should have played the model apprentice and nodded her head and not question the Supreme Leader's orders. If she was just a little more obedient, she might have eventually gotten exactly what she wanted. No, instead she challenged her master's word and walked away, knowing exactly how foolish she was. A child might even be smarter than her.

When no punishment was dealt out immediately, she knew she was in for something worse than what she ever would have expected and that the Supreme Leader was taking his time to decide her fate.

Rey knew that survival meant that she needed to find a way to leave, but she needed to be careful. Tipping anyone off would mean that she would most likely not make it out of this alive.

If only they would hear out her request to train the TIE Special Forces unit… She might then be willing to stay if it meant flying every day. If she had the power to give her masters an ultimatum, she would march right into the throne room on the _Supremacy_ and tell Snoke to either assign her to what she wanted or accepted her leave.

Yeah, that would totally go over well with the Supreme Leader. Maybe if she was lucky, there would be something left for Kylo to force on one of his missions to find Jedi Master Skywalker.

But now she was in a difficult position.

She had put in a request to have another cadet alternate nights with him after he told her about Phasma and his suspicion that she was growing annoyed by the assignment. She had a few candidates in mind, but Rey feared that this new trooper, even one of her choosing, might not have the same grace of confidentiality that Finn had. Having Finn assigned to this task had been a risk to begin with. He seemed to understand her moods, and no longer seemed so put off by them. Never once had he commented about the days when she felt too hopeless to leave her room or when she fumed with anger because the Supreme Leader had once again denied her requests for a job change. Finn seemed to get it. Actually, if she didn't know better, they had a lot more in common than she would have originally believe.

Her thoughts often drifted to him. She wondered what it would be like to touch him with familiarity, to hold him. Sometimes, she even caught her gaze drifting to his lips… After nights spent with him, she finally admitted to herself that Finn was handsome and that by thinking so she was not sending herself straight to the interrogation rooms of the _Supremacy._ It was okay to admire, she assured herself.

And she knew that Finn sometimes looked upon her with a look of adoration in his warm brown eyes. They were two very lonely people that found comfort and companionship in one another and she could tell by the emotion that Finn emitted in the Force that he had often thought the same things about her as she did of him.

After a pause, he finally asked as he gestured towards the bed, “It wouldn’t be… inappropriate?”

“No one will know and I don’t mind.” Then she waited a moment before she decided not to push him. She would have been uncomfortable if one of her superior officers ordered her to sleep in the same bed with them; she should not do the same to Finn. “Only if you want to,” she retracted. “I- this isn’t an order.”

Another pause, as if he were analyzing all of his choices and their resulting consequences. He probably was doing just that, Rey mused. Then, he reached down and unzipped his boots, removing them and leaving them next to the bed as he sat down on it. He started to remove all of his armor when he was in the room with her, having become comfortable in his role as a personal sentinel. It was weeks into the assignment, and he just now had started taking all of the armor off.

Scooting over to make room for him, Rey lifted her blanket, and he slipped under it, lying next to her. 

Shyly, Rey reached out and touched his cheek with her hand. It was a quick brush, but it was gentle all the same. Then, realizing what she had done, she hastily removed her hand and placed it at her side.

“You’ve been… different since you got back,” she said, quietly.

He sighed and turned his body to face hers, looking her in the eyes as she spoke.

“We were… Do you know what the mission entailed? he asked. When she nodded her head, he continued. “Well, those miners were negotiating safer working conditions. When I figured that out, I just… I couldn’t do it Rey. I can’t kill someone who has done nothing wrong.”

She pursed her lips after he finished. “I understand,” she replied quietly.

“I went back to do some sims,” he explained, “but now I can’t kill even during a simulation.” He was trembling. “And I keep wondering what will happen if anyone finds out.”

Rey brushed her hand against his. It seemed to calm him for a short moment before she removed her hand. 

Of course she wouldn’t tell. Not after the risk he put himself in for her by continually lying to his commanding officers.

“Can you… try to keep doing the sims? Remember that those aren’t real?”

Finn nodded. “I’ll have to.”

“I can try to put in a request for you to go to a different job upon graduation. It might take some time for the requests to go through. You could be trained to be a tech or, well, I know you’ve got a mind for strategy, I could suggest you get a position to work alongside the commanders to write the reports.” He was a little too old to be switching over to the technician program, but if a Knight of Ren gave the word, well, no one would question the order.

“I’d even be happy working with the laundry droids,” he told her, “if it meant I never have to kill someone.”

She laid her head back down against the pillow with a sigh. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. Then, sleepily, she closed her eyes.

Moments of silence passed between them. Rey was at the beginning stages of sleep, just starting to to feel the pull of blank darkness at the edges of her mind, when she heard Finn's voice again.

"Why have you been so nice to me?"

Opening one eye and turning on her side to face him, she replied, "I thought it would be easier to gain your trust by being nice. If that didn't work, well, I can play mean, too."

He looked at her again with disbelief. "All so that I woudn't turn you in," he breathed.

That made her feel more awake. "Partially," she admitted. "Also, I don't want to play their games."

"Whose?" Finn asked. "The other Knights?"

She nodded.

Finn furrowed his brow. "I don't understand," he said. "I thought you joined them because you wanted to."

With a sigh, Rey explained, "I suppose I did. They promised me food, and well, I was always one day away from starvation on Jakku. Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"I guess so, when you put it that way."

"They told me I would be given a great purpose. Food. A family. The last two I wanted more than anything else." She pulled her knees in closer to her body as she thought of this. "They didn't tell me _what_ I had to do to get them. Sometimes, it didn't matter. They still didn't give me any of that."

"The older officers and stormtroopers said they were offered similar things when the First Order recruited them," Finn recalled. "I can understand that. Some of them are from Jakku, too. The oldest of the recruits, in fact." He scrunched his nose. "Jakku sounds awful."

"You have no idea," she smiled. She thought back to sand roads and the makeshift shelters that scavengers made to survive. Most stayed away from each other, but there had been a few groups that decided that sticking together worked out just fine. She thought of those worn faces...

...and found that those faces were darkened in her memory, that when she thought of the other scavengers their features were identical and nearly faceless. Had she been gone from Jakku for so long that she could no longer remember the people she frequently crossed paths with for over ten years?

Realizing how much she might have lost by joining the Knights of Ren, Rey frowned. Like her freedom, in just five years, her memory was chipped away into fragmented memories. It was like she lost a small part of herself. She thought to Finn and all the things he would never know or remember. At least as she was growing up, she had some freedom, even if the quality of life she experienced was poor.

 _"You_ didn't get a choice, though," she pointed out.

He paused. "No, I didn't. And I don't know anything about the life they took me from either.

Rey made a breathy giggle. "No wonder the older officers call you cadets ungrateful."

Both of them went quiet again as they took in what they learned about each other. Though she wouldn't admit it, Rey often daydreamed of a world that didn't exist, where she didn't have to take on the burdens of being a Knight of Ren or don the face of a killer. That world that didn't exist was a peaceful one, full of flowers and blue skies and water pools.

Lately, she would encounter Finn as she strolled along in her daydreams. He became part of that world, too. She wondered if he had dreams of a better world or if the First Order had quashed all imagination from his mind. She wondered what that world he dreamed of would look like.

She slipped into sleep while on this thought. If there was any thought to fall asleep too, this one was far better than most of her other thoughts.

Sometime during the night, their hands touched, Rey’s hand resting on top of Finn’s. They stayed like that until morning.

* * *

“You look… happy today, Eight-Seven,” observed Slip at breakfast.

Finn panicked, hoping that whatever face he was making – he guessed a slight goofy grin – wasn’t giving away anything about his relationship with Rey. He thought of himself as _Finn_ now, but he was heartsick when he realized that he could never share his name with anyone except Rey. In a way, the secret made everything even more exciting but also all the more dangerous.

The fact she swore not to tell anyone about his situation after the mining incident made him feel like he could trust her. It almost felt like they were equals now, with both of them hiding each other’s secrets.

When Rey woke up that morning, it was with a smile that made him nearly drop the datapad on the bed. It was a smile that was only meant for him. No one saw Rey’s face during the day, only Finn got this privilege. And so far, the few times she smiled with genuine happiness was because of him.

And he was happy too, for the first time he could remember. Even though he was terrified of what might happen to him if anyone found out about his current predicament.

But he had to answer his team.

“Oh, uh… I talked with Phasma this morning. She was happy with my report for my assignment.”

Zeroes, Nines, and Slip looked at each other, impressed.

“That’s great, Eight-Seven,” said Nines. “Are you still going to be… guarding Sira Ren then?”

“For the time being,” he replied. “She still has frequent nightmares. She almost hurt herself a few nights ago. A request was put in for another cadet to alternate nights with me so I can train more.”

Which was the truth. Three nights prior, Finn had to wake her up because in her sleep she was thrashing and she hit her hand hard against the wall of her quarters. That didn’t make her wake up, but her hand was bruised. The nightmares were becoming more frequent and effecting her in a very negative way. Rey just looked exhausted nearly every morning and when she would talk with Finn for a while, he could tell she was putting in a lot of effort to stay awake to do so.

The dreams were becoming more frequent and more vivid to her. When he finally asked her what she was dreaming of, she responded with a shake of her head, telling him that she didn’t really know but the dream was terrifying and felt real to her. It was the same one over and over. The only thing she could tell him was that she was sure that she was in the middle of a massacre.

It was a bothersome thought, but Finn had no idea how to help her. She was trained to be a killer so going to get help because of dreams of death and fear could get her singled out by her master and the other Knights.

The only thing he could do for her now is just be there for her…

* * *

When he arrived at his scheduled time, just as he had every night for the last few weeks, he knew something was wrong. It was a feeling that sunk in his stomach and made him feel uneasy.

As he entered the room after Rey unlocked it for him, he found her pacing around in a frustrated huff.

“You okay?” He had never seen her in this mood before.

She stopped to look at him. “I need to do something…” She took a moment to think. “I want to spar. Would you go with me?”

Thinking about it, he had never spared with Rey before and he wondered if he would get in trouble. But if she gave him permission, it would probably be all right. He trusted her not to hurt him, something he wouldn’t have said when he first started the assignment.

“Sure,” said Finn. “Lead the way.”

While the corridors were sparsely populated this time of night, Finn found it strange to see other stormtroopers make way for him and Rey as they passed by. If she had not been with him, they would have ignored him and left him to weave his own path through. The perks of being feared, he supposed.

They ended up on the far end of star destroyer, in one of the private rooms that were reserved for superior officers, special forces, and the occasional Knight of Ren. Rey grabbed a staff from the weapons closet, and she waited for Finn to choose his.

He spotted a riot control baton hanging up on the wall and selected it, knowing that was the weapon was the one he was most familiar with besides blasters. When he returned to her side, Rey nodded and walked to the opposite end of the sparring ring. Finn readied himself.

Making the first move, she approached him and made a vertical swing towards his chest. With his stormtrooper armor – sans helmet – still on, he had some extra protection on him if she did accidentally hit him too hard. Her swings were strong but controlled. She was not fighting to hurt him.

He raised the baton to block her strike, meeting her halfway and locking their weapons together. 

Their eyes locked and held each other’s gaze. Rey was angry, but when she looked at him, she was not showing that anger, rather something more gentle and affectionate.

He was the one to pull away, making a quick lunge to try to hit the baton against her thigh. But she was quick, too, and dodged the attack.

Their sparring continued for some time, Finn guessed around 45 minutes or so. They alternated between sparring and resting, occasionally exchanging words. She mumbled something about Kylo Ren always getting in the way and Finn realized that her anger was directed at her master for some reason. He got the feeling that Rey held nothing but contempt for him. 

Then, she said something very vulgar about the Supreme Leader's appearance. It was shocking, actually, to hear someone curse the Supreme Leader’s name with a voice laced with spite and venom. No one would normally have the gall to do what Rey just did.

Still, he made a quick glance around the room to check for cameras, just in case.

Rey was still frustrated and angry, but sparring with him was obviously distracting her from her thoughts and their rhythm of practice took on a playful feel. She was toying with him and he would do something funny to make her laugh, loving the way her face would light up and her nose would crinkle when she did.

But then, she tripped, losing the façade of terrifying grace and lithe speed that she had been known for as a Knight of Ren. Falling forward into him, Finn landed on the ground on his back, Rey’s face unceremoniously squashed into his stomach. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she gasped.

But while she sat up a bit, Rey did not move away from him. She was gazing at him again in that way that made his heart race and a chill go down his spine. It was possessive, but not in a way that frightened him. It actually made him feel a little proud that she was looking at him like that.

Leaning down, Rey’s face just stopped short of meeting his. “Are you OK with me like this?” she asked him.

At first, he was confused by her question. Was he OK with her touching him, being in his personal space? Right now, he would say yes.

But she elaborated. “Are you OK with me being who I am and you being who you are? I don’t want you to think you have to do anything with me because I hold a higher position than you.”

Oh, so _that’s_ what she was asking.

“I like you for you,” he told her. “I’m not thrilled that you are a Knight of Ren but it seems like you aren’t thrilled with that either.” 

Then he craned his neck up and kissed her. This wasn’t his first kiss, cadets were known for sneaking around behind the backs of officers as an act of rebellion, but it was the first time he initiated one.

It was certainly was _Rey’s_ though, judging by how she both hesitated and seemed unsure about what to do. At first, he worried that he was doing something that she didn’t want him to do, but then she began to kiss back and that fear quickly dissipated. Finn did not want to say it was a terrible kiss even though it arguably was; finally kissing Rey made him excited and elated. She didn’t know where to put her hands, eventually settling to put one against his shoulder and another wrapped under his waist to mirror how he had his arms wrapped around her. Moving her mouth also seemed to be an issue for her, and Finn decided that maybe he needed to take the lead on this one.

They surfaced with a gasp, Rey still sitting on Finn, and stared at each other in the eyes. Both of them look startled like they couldn’t believe what they just did.

“That was…” Finn panted. “Was that okay?”

“I…” she began. “Yes, Finn. I wanted that.”

Then they smiled slyly at each other, knowing that now they were breaking so many of the First Order’s rules and no one would bother to stop them. No one would believe Finn if he told them that he kissed a Knight of Ren anyway.

A little later they went back to her room, glad that their helmets and masks hid their faces away so that no one would see the little grins on their faces. They took turns in her ‘fresher, washing off the sweat they accumulated during their sparring. When Rey crawled into bed, she didn’t ask Finn to follow her in. Instead, he slid in next to her and she smiled, leaning over to kiss him one more time before they went to sleep.

There were no nightmares that night.

* * *

The Supreme Leader was an impatient being and everyone that had the privilege to be audience to his greatness knew this. Snoke was an oracle, a leader, a savior to the First Order. In their struggle to take control of their region that they occupied initially in unexplored, wild space, biding their time and building up their army, Snoke offered them the power they needed to rise from the ashes of the Empire. The First Order whispered their greatness and brilliance into life and found quiet allies in the New Republic that were not happy with how the galaxy was ran by a bunch of ex-rebels and those that had forgotten the might and excellence of the Empire. Money found its way to them, resources piled in storage and development facilities. Soon, they promised, they would rise as a formidable foe to the New Republic and their failing government and take back what belonged rightfully to them, the successor of the Empire.

Unloading from his shuttle, face hidden by a damaged black mask and clothed in a worn black cowl, Kylo Ren paced through the hangar of the _Supremacy._ A summon by his master had arrived to him with urgency, and he left his mission right away. It must be of utmost importance if he was called away from an objective assigned to him by the Supreme Leader himself.

He looked around the mega-class star destroyer and sensed nothing amiss. He doubted that this summon involved new information about the whereabouts of the last Jedi. Something like that would have been easily sent to him via comm or data. No, there was something else that he was brought here for.

The patent red sheen of the Praetorian guards greeted him in front of the entrance to the throne room on the top level of the star destroyer. They looked him over once and nodded in unison, moving out of the way as the massive doors opened and let him inside.

“Ah, my apprentice has returned,” the rumbling voice of Supreme Leader Snoke greeted him. “And not a moment too soon… or too late.”

Kneeling with his head bowed to the floor, Ren greeted his master. “You summoned me?”

“There may be a problem with your former apprentice,” Snoke explained as Ren stood up and righted himself. 

“Sira?” Ren was a little shocked by this; she had been a perfectly compliant pupil, a protégée, if Ren could say so himself. Sure, she had struggled against the pull of the light – everyone did – but she did not falter in her loyalty to the dark side.

With a hum, Snoke continued. “She visited me the other day. Her presence in the Force seemed… off. Different somehow. I do not suspect that her loyalty has wavered but…”

“Is it the light?” Ren asked, afraid of his master’s answer.

“Perhaps,” Snoke agreed. “Perhaps not. But I am concerned that she is remembering.”

A chill waved through Ren’s body, causing him to wonder if this was something due to a failing on his part. Sira was a perfect candidate for the Knights of Ren… with a few altercations here and there. Perhaps it had been too early to let her off her leash and allow her the independence that he had thought was well-deserved. He knew that she had wanted to do more as a pilot, but the Force was at work and the Supreme Leader insisted that her destiny was entwined with Ren’s and had rejected all of her requests. One day, he assured his apprentice, she would understand and be grateful for what they were doing for her. She was too young to really grasp the reality of her destiny; they were merely guiding her in the right direction.

“She questioned my orders when I gave her a mission; something she has never done before.”

“And what did she ask?” Ren wanted confirmation. If Sira was breaking through her initial conditioning, she may have to go through it again, and no one wanted that for her unless it was necessary. The last time she had been brought in, freshly picked up by Kylo to play her role for the dark side... Well, even he'd rather forget about that. Angry as she was, Sira did not comply to him or to Snoke and so it was decided that the best thing for her was to forget everything that made her angry. Anger was an excellent tool for the dark side, but it did not create the loyalty they had wanted. Sure, it hurt her – stubborn as she was, Ren feared that unwillingness to comply would get her killed on accident during the conditioning - but it was for her own good; they were remolding her into something that would one day bring greatness to the dark side and the Supreme Leader.

The first time she went through conditioning, she nearly died. Kylo remembered his orders to remove her from this very room, unmoving and half-brain dead. The med droids suggested disposing of her, but Kylo had faith in her strength and in the destiny she was selected for. The dark side did not fail him. She survived and functioned again, becoming the apprentice he had always dreamed of mentoring.

“She questions her role,” replied Snoke. “She wanted to know if she could pass on a mission to give to someone else. She still is… insistent that I should put her in charge of our starfighter fleet.”

He paused, searching through the Force to see if this would change anything he had already foresaw. Seeing the future was difficult work and not always a surefire thing. Anything, even a slight change in the weather, could severely alter events still to come. Perhaps, he mused, Sira Ren’s ambition to head the starfighters of the First Order was the Force at work again, trying to help her get on the right path to meet her destiny. He had foreseen that too. One day, he would rule over the galaxy with the Knights of Ren supporting him. Kylo would bring an end to the Jedi, but one day Sira would surpass him in power.

What was still cloudy was how Sira would use that power; Snoke thought it was unlikely that she would challenge him for the title of Supreme Leader, but she might challenge Kylo if Snoke hadn’t already discarded either of them first. The man was strong and skilled, but he was nothing like his grandfather, the person he so longed to mirror in power and action. It didn’t matter how long he stayed hidden under a mask, Kylo Ren would never be the force that was Darth Vader.

Of course, he would never tell either of his apprentices that. He needed them to act as his will over the galaxy. In his prime, Snoke was a force to be reckoned with, but as old as he was, he was not as powerful as he was before.

He could sense Ren’s mind racing. “And what must I do, master, to correct this?”

“I pulled her off the mission for now, but I will put her back on it with you as a partner. Watch her, observe her. If it seems like her… loyalty is in question, bring her to me.”

With another bow, Ren promised, “I will not fail you.”

“See that you don’t,” warned Snoke, his disfigured face twisting into a look of contempt. “You were the one that wanted her as an apprentice; her failing is yours and you know how much I like failure.”

And that Ren did understand, he even had the scars to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reviewing my original chapter 4, I realized that length-wise, it was incredibly long and that it would be more appropriate to split it up into two chapters. Hence, there will be six chapters instead of five.
> 
> For those of you not familiar with the tie-ins, the incident at Pressy's Tumble happens in _Before the Awakening._ I do recommend this novel because it is an easy read and details Finn, Poe, and Rey's lives before TFA. If you can't get a hold of it and would like a summary, check out Wookiepedia's entry (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Before_the_Awakening).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperation often is followed by realization.

Finn was smiling a lot more under the safety of his helmet and the best part was that it was his secret to keep. He looked forward to his evenings more than ever before and even his target and test scores were improving again, not that they needed it. That was a relief to him, actually. It took him nearly two weeks after Pressy’s Tumble to bring himself to shoot at a simulated target and he was growing worried that Phasma was catching on to his problem. 

He knew that he was feeling something called _infatuation,_ something that the First Order strongly urged against. The information he could get on Rey’s datapad allowed him to learn more about what was forbidden to him. Technically, emotions like this still prohibited, especially because he was a cadet. The officers and superiors had more privilege to emotion and experiences. He knew some of them had paired up with a significant other and had children with them. The First Order encouraged procreation since having children naturally was a much easier way to keep up the numbers among the ranks than to find them elsewhere and use up what precious resources they had to procure new recruits. If Finn held on a bit longer, it was possible he would find himself in one of those positions and be able to ignore some of the stuff he had been raised to do and to think with little worry of backlash.

Unless Rey’s request to have him move to another position was approved – there was always a chance it would not - with his talents and scores, Finn was confident he would always remain a soldier and stormtroopers at any rank, except maybe Captain Phasma and Cardinal, never got the privileges of officers.

Which reminded him: he still hadn’t heard anything about Cardinal in a while. Perhaps he really had taken ill. That happened frequently enough in the ranks, and he hadn’t been replaced, so Finn assumed he was still around somewhere.

But back to his initial thought. He had heard the term _infatuation_ tossed around once by officers criticizing another for taking on a peculiar liking to a specific cadet. It was the first time he had heard it be used and when he got the chance, he looked it up on the academy-issued datapads.

_In.fat.u.a.tion._

_An intense, but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something._

Looking a little more into the term, Finn had learned that the word was considered a synonym to _obsession_ by the First Order and was a precursor to disorderly and unprofessional conduct. But to Finn, that didn’t quite fit with the general definition. He knew that intensity was often a bad thing, but how could passion or admiration be bad if it did not hurt anyone?

He understood the First Order’s fears a little better now. Rey - her hair, her hands, her eyes, her lips - occupied his thoughts. There were times that something happened while he was training and he thought to himself, _I should tell Rey about this,_ or even, _What would Rey think?_ Was there anything wrong with wanting the companionship he was able to establish with her when this was not something accessible to him before? He did not own her, nor did he want to control her, but he wanted to be beside her. Nothing seemed particularly wrong with wanting that. 

And Rey, for all her secrecy and fear, also showed him the gentle, loving side of her that seemed to survive through her isolation and personal tribulation on Jakku and her training as a Knight of Ren. It was amazing to him that she even still had this side to her. She uploaded new holonovels for him regularly, sometimes sharing her favorites she knew he would like. Sometimes even, she would help him out of his armor to unlatch the areas that were tricky for him to reach, such as the plates on his back, when his limbs were too sore from evening training. 

They were confined to a small world comprising of only one room and limited in their expressions and feelings, but to them, the small things counted as the largest. 

He was happy then, to search for the word on Rey’s holopad, and found a new side to it. 

_Infatuation,_ another source define. _The state of passion and admiration towards another person for which one has developed strong romantic or platonic feelings._

And infatuation, he learned with further research, was an early stage of falling in love. 

It read almost like he had a disease, with information illustrating the early and late stages of love. According to this, he was actually late in the cycle and if the feelings lasted, he and Rey could reach that final stage. However, there was a cautionary note about infatuation leading to obsession. Love was healthy but obsession was not. 

And if infatuation was condemned by the First Order, falling in love was certainly forbidden.

This stayed on his mind throughout the day after he had learned about the concept, even as he was approaching Rey’s quarters.

It immediately was pushed aside, however, when he entered and found her pacing her room and pulling at her hair, which was left to hang free from her usual three buns. This was becoming more of a regular occurrence with her. For both of them, really. He still worked himself into a panic as he constantly looked over his shoulder during his training to see if anyone was watching him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he frantically hit at the button to close the door. 

But Rey continued to pace the room, muttering under her breath, and acting more afraid than Finn had ever seen her before. It was like watching one of those bird beasts that the First Order had caught on a recent world exploration, caged and restless as the soldiers that caught it poked at it and taunted it. That vid update bothered him and the image stayed with him as he continued to try to accomplish his duties. That creature had done nothing but live on the world which they touched down on. But Rey was not angry; this was fear.

He reached for her arm. “Rey, sit down; breathe, please.” He mirrored her coaxing from when he had moments like this in front of her. This room was the only place where it was safe for either of them to panic.

The moment she made contact with the soft bed, she grabbed her head in her hands, blurting out, “I’m leaving on a mission tomorrow. With _him.”_

Even though he was her former master, Rey did not like to talk about Kylo Ren. Finn was not sure why exactly, but he got the feeling that Rey did not trust Kylo or that she had not been happy with training under him. She had confessed to Finn that she hated when she was assigned missions by the Supreme Leader because if she refused, she would be punished. The way she said it made Finn entertain the thought that punishment was possibly more terrifying than reconditioning.

“I was _stupid,”_ she continued, gritting her teeth. “So, so stupid. The Supreme Leader gave me a mission, to go to some… jungle world and convince the population to show their _loyalty_ to us. And I asked him to give it to someone else without thinking.”

Finn nodded, thinking of how Rey had told him about her frustration with being a Knight of Ren. Just like him, despite being taught to kill, she found that she simply did not want to. When assignments arrived, she was conveniently away on other business or she made sure that the message mysteriously malfunctioned. 

Something was not right about her situation – well, besides the obvious. She had explained her suspicions to him. Instead of missions where she would be directly involved with terrifying civilians, Rey was trying her hardest to convince the First Order that her talents would be of more use to the starfighter fleet. She had advanced mechanical skills and knew impressive flying tactics; even General Hux acknowledged this and entertained the idea of asking the Supreme Leader to consider the option. No, it would not make her any less at fault for the deaths of many, but at least she would not have to look upon the faces of the victims of the First Order in their final moments.

Kylo didn’t seem to catch on to how much Sira loathed him and would be thrilled to never have to see him or hear his name again. It might not have been so bad if he wasn’t so insistent that she would accompany him on all of his missions, even the Supreme Leader had told him that Sira needed to be given time away from her master once she entered the ranks of Knighthood to adjust to her new role and learn the basics of overseeing a star destroyer, but Kylo for whatever reason would not drop the issue and continued to pressure her into joining him. Whenever she put in a request to be assigned to a starfleet project, she found that he had rejected every one of them.

And she had made that contempt known to the most dangerous being in the First Order. There was a rumor that the Supreme Leader could read minds, but Finn worried if that was true.

Shifting nervously, he sat down next to her before _he_ might start pacing next. “And do you think he’s… suspicious of you now?”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “But not about you or us.” 

He found that he liked the way she said that, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“I have to go still but now he’s assigned him to go with me. He’s assigning him because my loyalty is questioned and if he finds out... I can’t go through that again!”

Watching her shake uncontrollably, Finn's stomach tightened, and he suddenly felt like he was about to be sick. She had said little about what her training consisted of, but he was suspicious that it was something that would have killed someone without a control over the Force. If a stormtrooper was put under the same techniques, Finn thought, they probably wouldn’t walk away alive. What made the thought worse was that Rey was just _fourteen_ at the time. The goal was to mold her into a tool that the Supreme Leader could use for himself. Any time he got whim of defiance from her, she was placed under that pain until she complied. Even the rest of the First Order agreed that reconditioning was too extreme on developing minds. It was a final resort to many, and it had been unanimously agreed upon when the idea first was established that it would not be used on anyone under the age of majority.

Rey had also implied that the Supreme Leader had particularly loved putting her fear of going hungry to good use. 

Finn grew angrier by the day. He shouldn’t have to fear reconditioning just because he wasn’t cut out to be a soldier. Troops shouldn’t be sent to be tortured or altered physically because they didn’t meet the exact demands of the people they served. And starving someone to punish them was just cruel. That wasn’t creating the loyalty the First Order wanted. Instead, it created people like Rey who would burn the entire fleet to the ground if she had the chance.

The New Republic wasn’t perfect either, but at least they seemed to agree in their governance that treating anyone like this was a crime. There was another life outside of the First Order.

…There _was_ a life beyond the First Order.

Why did it take him so long to understand this?

“And the other thing is Finn, I don’t think we’re going to be able to pull off this arrangement much longer.” She sniffled. “Phasma asked me if you will be able to go back to your regular training.”

A ripple of fear ran through his chest. “And you said?”

“I told her I’m still deciding on another cadet to alternate with you. I’ll choose someone unremarkable that will just follow orders," she added. “The nightmares aren’t gone, but when you’re here… it helps.” She had been slow to select, it was true, part of it was being otherwise occupied by the assignment the Supreme Leader wanted her to take on, the other part of it was her unwillingness to not be with Finn every night. 

“So you think they’ll be regular enough for the other cadet to report that the nightmares are still an issue?” Finn pressed.

“Yes.”

He hated the idea of not being with her for her bad nights, but he agreed. This was the best way to protect the both of them. The best way to not rouse further suspicion and back up his need to be here was to have another stormtrooper assigned. It was obvious that Rey had not intended to establish a relationship with him at the start; she seemed to believe that the nightmares were only temporary. It made sense then, that she only asked for one cadet and not more. Professional familiarity was far more comfortable than having a new stranger each night observe your sleeping habits.

At the same time, Rey’s condition was not improving. It had been bad to begin with and Finn’s presence seemed to help, but it did not completely stop the dreams.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me about the nightmares, huh?” he asked her, grabbing her hand and lacing his gloveless fingers with hers. In quiet moments, they liked to run their fingers against each other, both playfully and with tenderness. Being able to just touch someone was still a new and novel idea to the both of them. Some nights, it seemed impossible for them to keep their hands off the other.

For a moment, she was quiet and Finn dared to give his hopes up that tonight would be the night she would tell him something.

“It’s… hard to explain,” she answered.

“Yeah?”

“Well… I’m a little younger, about the age that I was brought to the First Order to train. It’s night and raining. I’m on a planet I don’t recognize. There are people screaming and I’m hiding and…”

“And?” This was more than he had been hoping for, at the same time, the dream did not make a ton of sense to him either. It sounded like a typical nightmare but he wasn’t sure. Dream interpretation was not exactly part of the cadet lesson plan.

“There’s someone,” she whispered. “Someone that hid me. Then he leaves and I’m alone and…”

A pause.

“My master shows up.”

Now _that_ got Finn's attention. 

“I’m not sure why my master would be in this nightmare, but it feels real and it’s not a good feeling either. It’s like a warning. Maybe the Force is at work.”

“Do you think this is just a stress dream?” asked Finn. He got those from time to time; he knew how those could be.

Rey shook her head. “I’m not sure. Still, I can’t go to the medbay for this if they are stress dreams. It would get back to the Supreme Leader.”

“I know.”

With a sigh, Rey moved to remove the last of her outerwear and left the bedside to go into her ‘fresher. Same old routine. When she returned, dressed for bed, Finn was waiting for her, completely stripped out of his armor.

They didn’t say a word as Rey slipped into the bed and Finn followed behind her. They kissed, though their anxieties made it hard to enjoy even that, and then Rey settled in, resting her head against his outstretched arm and cuddled into his side.

He hoped that when he saw her next, it would be soon and under happier conditions.

* * *

For three days, Finn had to return to the life he nearly forgot about. Getting back into the swing of things was easy enough and he was not as out of practice as he had thought, but it was a change. For one, his schedule was back to the typical cadet routine and not adjusted to the night schedule he had kept. 

Rey would be gone for an undisclosed amount of time while on her mission. Wherever she was, Finn hoped that Kylo would not cause her too much trouble. 

She had disclosed that she would choose another cadet, and it was decided that the two of them would rotate shifts after a period of five hours with the cadets attending either morning or evening duties based on their schedules and probably attending half of afternoon duties. Phasma was still trying to decide how to make this schedule work, but she seemed more pleased with this idea. It was hard to think about not getting to spend a full night with Rey now, but even Finn agreed that this was better than never seeing her. He had to stop himself from reaching for a datapad at night to break from his old routine and not rouse any suspicions, though as he reminded himself, the datapad wouldn't allow him to view the same content that Rey’s datapad did.

The cadets were to graduate to the ranks within the month and while Finn dreaded this, he always knew it was coming. He wondered if everyone in his squad would remain in the same facilities after they graduated. So far, none of his team had made any mention or indication that they would go elsewhere, though Finn thought he might find himself in another position soon. Rey’s request still had not gone through, but she wondered if it had anything to do with him still being a cadet. Maybe after he graduated, the request would be reviewed again and he would get moved to work more closely with the officers.

If he survived long enough, that was.

He continually hoped that Slip would at least be assigned to another duty. He was a loyal soldier, but nowhere near meeting the standards that the First Order wanted for their troops. It seemed that without Finn around to help him, Slip was falling farther behind.

That was obviously getting on Phasma’s nerves, if her latest lecture to the cadets was any indication.

“Weakness must be culled from our ranks,” she began on his first day back to morning drills. “The First Order has no place for individuals slowing down the group and making a mess of things.” She looked pointedly at Slip, not even bothering to hide who inspired this.

“All of you: your duty is to the First Order above everything. Nothing comes before that.” She seemed to look at Finn this time, making him gulp quietly under his helmet. “Your duty is not to pick up the slack for your comrades. The First Order is only as strong as its weakest link. Let’s make sure that link won’t bring us failure.”

She paused and looked down the row of cadets. “Do I make myself clear?”

All of them snapped into a salute. “Yes, Captain.”

“Good.”

Finn made it a point at lunch to catch up with his squad to learn how their training was going.

“We’re okay,” said Zeroes with a shrug. “Nines is doing pretty well for himself. Tell him.”

“Yeah,” agreed Nines. “Phasma’s been training me with a riot baton now. I think she wants to set me with one when we graduate.” He looked around suspiciously before he said anything more. “Anything to get me out of executioner duty.”

No one made any comment about this nor did they act like they heard a word that Nines said, in fear of being overheard. Executioner duty was quietly known as one of the least-desired roles that a stormtrooper could get landed with, though some individuals had a taste for it. The squad so far only had to don the black and white armor for field practice, leaving it up to those in the ranks to set an example. It was a job that was randomly assigned at the start of each day. Though anonymous – but easy to figure out if one of your squad went missing for the day – it was considered to be a high honor by the First Order. 

But the soldiers did not seem to take that honor the way they were supposed to. Killing armed, combative enemies was one thing; ceremoniously killing an unarmed and restrained captive was clearly another. The lucky ones were those landed with Executioner duty that went through their day without being ordered to kill anyone. 

Finn wondered if the higher-ranking officers knew about this attitude or not. They would discipline those that spoke against the job, but they also weren’t going out of their way to do it either. It might have been that many officers felt the same way but didn’t want to draw attention to themselves to try to make any changes happen.

He wondered exactly how strong the structure of the First Order really was and where else cracks were showing in their numbers.

But Slip shook his head, upset, as he told Finn about his progress. 

“Phasma’s been angry with me,” he confessed. “I know she is. She doesn’t hide it.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Finn agreed.

“I keep screwing up. I tripped during our last field run and caused a pile up behind me. She was furious. And it keeps happening.”

“Maybe you’ll be assigned to another duty when we graduate,” offered Finn, trying to give Slip some hope. “People get assigned to managing weapons all the time.”

This did not lighten Slip’s mood. “I hope so. I’d probably do okay there.”

In his heart, Finn knew that Phasma was not a forgiving person and her wrath was not something that anyone wanted to fuel. If she was targeting Slip as their weak link, she was planning something else, to make an example of him.

He would have to keep an eye on everyone for the time being.

* * *

In her quarters, Phasma slid into her chair and made a deep sigh. Working for the First Order was far easier than living on Parnassos, but constantly keeping tabs on her cadets and the officers was becoming a tiring matter. Still, she felt pretty confident that there wasn't much for her to worry about among the ranks. With the last person that remembered Phasma's life before the First Order that might use that information against her gone, she slept a little easier knowing that her position here was safe; that the last person that could possibly identify her involvement with the death of Brendol Hux was as dead as he was.

A shame it had to be one of Phasma's own family.

She knew there were rumors of herself purging students to make the ranks stronger. Well, that wasn't a lie, but she couldn't go parading that information around. For all of their hatred for weakness among their ranks, the First Order would not be happy if it were known she really had rid herself of a couple of problem students by passing their deaths off as an accident. There were a few real accidents, of course, but a few of those deaths under her watch had been carefully planned to look like one. A blaster would fail to be set to safety during cleaning. A cadet would be found mysteriously dead on a hostile world. Phasma made sure that every one of those accidents would never be traced back to her.

Her comm link blinked. She glanced at the time before deciding if the call was something she should answer.

"Captain Phasma," Armitage Hux's voice sounded a little static. "Do you have a report for me?"

She spent a moment in thought. "The oldest FN cadets are ready to move into the ranks, with a few stragglers. I will see that they are dealt with as necessary. Awaiting your orders to send them out to be added into ground forces."

"Wonderful," Hux commented. "And do you have any report for me about Sira Ren?"

Phasma had been a little surprised by Hux's interest in the youngest of the Knights of Ren. When it came to the original Knights, his disdain for them was well-known among the First Order. She, like many of the other commanding officers, had assumed that Hux would have ignored Sira until she became either too powerful or too meddling for him to do so. He had plans for the First Order that he wanted to intact, but Kylo's arrival had brought a new hurdle to his plans. The Supreme Leader did not seem to care about Hux sticking his nose into every detail of the organization - Starkiller Base had largely been a successful endeavor under his leadership, after all - but Kylo Ren _did_ care and was weary of the scheming general.

Hux, it seemed, had a plan that might involve Sira, or at least, he had some interest in her and it wasn't out of fondness or concern for the woman's well-being.

"A top cadet was assigned to her... six weeks ago with orders to report any abnormalities. In the three reports he has verbally given to me, he has noted a frequency of nightmares but nothing strange or out of place of her behavior. The only significant information I have noted based on his reports is that her nightmares are increasing and that her control over the Force wanes during this period of nightmares."

"And you trust the word of this cadet?" he asked.

"No. After his second report and his change in test scores, I do not." She sighed. "Sira has requested a second cadet to alternate shifts with this one. Perhaps this way, we will find contradictions in the report." She paused. "This second cadet will honor her preferences, but ultimately, I will choose a cadet I know will follow my exact orders."

The comm went quiet. At first, Phasma thought he had disconnected the link.

Then, she heard his voice again. "Very good, Captain." His voice sounded disappointed. "As you were." 

The comm really did go silent then.

She spent a moment thinking. If her intuition was correct, Hux had a new plan up his sleeve, one that might easily backfire on him as it could prove to be beneficial to him. Scheming with the Knights of Ren was as dangerous as playing with fire.

Perhaps, Phasma mused, it might be time for her to make her own plans. If the First Order was about to fall apart at the seams, it was no longer in her interests to stay. Training the cadets had always just been a way to ensure her own survival, and she honestly would not be too heartbroken if she ever had to leave the job.

And her own survival always came first. Nothing else mattered to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books referenced for this chapter are:  
>  _Before the Awakening_  
>  _Phasma_  
>  _Aftermath: Empire's End_  
>  _The Last Jedi: Visual Dictionary_
> 
> I'm going to try to make sure that I have the next chapter uploaded early so that I can post it on time next weekend, however, I am moving to a new area this week so I can't make promises.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth isn't always clear.

Rey returned four days after she departed.

Finn was summoned by Phasma again before breakfast, believing that she wanted to chat with him about his progress and his assignment for after graduation. He didn't have a doubt that he would remain on this star destroyer. If Rey wanted to keep him on assignment, no one was going to argue with her.

He asked Rey to consider having Slip alter night shifts with him. They had spent their nights lately discussing potential candidates, and he thought maybe if Rey had Slip take on the duty. Maybe she could also convince someone in another office or department to take him after graduation. Anything to get Slip out of combat. Even Finn knew he would not survive long out on the field.

“There’s been a… complication,” Phasma told him when he found her.

“Complication?” he asked, not knowing what she meant. It worried him. Did Rey get hurt on her mission? Or did - and Finn really didn't like this thought - her master hurt her as a form of punishment for her earlier disobedience?

Phasma nodded. “Lady Ren returned from her mission earlier this morning. She has taken ill, contracting a disease while traveling outdoors.”

Finn’s stomach sank. To the First Order, illness was never a good thing. But he was hoping-

“There has been a request put in by Medical to have you stay with her until she is able to rest without monitoring. A droid will be sent to her room to check on her every few hours. Be sure to let it in.”

He smiled under his helmet, relieved to be put back on his old duty. Before he left, he had to ask, “Is it contagious?”

“We have no reason to believe it is. The med droids can tell you more.”

He saluted.

“Dismissed.”

* * *

It was hard to keep himself from sprinting towards Rey’s quarters until he found himself face to face with Kylo Ren. Finn was taken aback by how massive the man was. He might have even been as tall as Phasma, but he wouldn't stand there to compare notes.

“FN-2187,” the man in the mask greeted. He stood just a few feet away from the door to Rey’s room. 

He stood up straight. “Sir.” Then he waited to see what Ren would do next.

Ren turned the lightsaber in his hands thoughtfully, as if inspecting it, but Finn knew exactly what the gesture was meant for. He wanted to remind Finn who had the power in this exchange, to install fear into him. Had Rey accidentally let slip what the relationship between them had grown into? Finn was sure that Ren would not particularly be pleased to hear about that.

Then without another word, Ren walked away leaving Finn with questions about the odd exchange.

For one, how exactly did Kylo Ren know who he was? Rey had told him that her helmet had been modified by her to add the same technology that stormtrooper commanders used, giving the call signs of each troop in her line of vision. That would probably mean that Kylo Ren did not have the same technology and Finn could not see the man being that interested in individual stormtroopers.

Perhaps, he guessed that the stormtrooper walking down the hall was FN-2187 because he was expected. That would be a pretty likely reason.

But it had seemed to him like Ren had been waiting in that spot specifically for him and that thought sent a chill down his spine.

A part of him feared that the Knight of Ren could read minds, as rumored by the cadets. One wrong thought and you’re dead, had been the joke he heard over the last couple years. Faced with that prospect, the idea was truly terrifying.

But there was a more pressing matter to attend to.

Upon opening the door, Finn could tell right away just how sick Rey was. She was lying on her bed with an IV drip to her vein. A med droid hovered over her.

The Rey lying in the bed was a pale shadow of the Rey that had left days before. For one, she slept with a look of total discomfort and unease. Even when she had nightmares, Rey normally was able to rest with some comfort. She also just looked weak, with dark circles forming under her eyes.

The biggest change, however, was also the most noticeable. Her pale skin was dotted with reddish-brown scaly patches. He wasn’t sure, but it looked like the patches were everywhere on her body except her face, for some reason. Maybe it was because the skin cells of the face were a little different than the cells of the rest of the body? They were larger along her neck, and he could guess that there were many larger patches under her clothes. The ones that dotted her arms and hands were smaller and more pinkish in coloring.

“Reporting for duty,” he announced to the droid. “And requesting information.”

The droid got right down to business.

“Lady Ren is being treated for a fungal infection, extracted while on-world. Symptoms include fever, headache, red rash along entire body.”

“How does it spread?” he asked. He believed Phasma when she told him it was not contagious, but he wanted to be absolutely sure.

“Spreads by coming in direct contact with the spores. Reports indicate that Lady Ren touched the fungus on accident when inspecting a tree.”

Finn glanced at the empty glass by her viewport, the one she used as a vase whenever she snuck in flowers. Unless Ren had done something to make her sick, Finn thought he knew exactly what she had been doing to contract a fungus. Either she had stopped to admire nature, not realizing the potentially harmful consequences of doing so (even the youngest of stormtroopers understood not to touch anything on an unfamiliar world unless told it was safe), or she couldn't help herself to not reach for the prettiest flower she could find to bring it back with her. That would just be like Rey.

“What’s the prognosis?”

“With the application of anti-fungals and managing the fever, Lady Ren should make a full recovery within the week.”

Well, that didn’t sound too bad then. It must be one of those infections that looked worse than it was.

The med droid gave him instructions to monitor her fever and to call medical if it got worse or her symptoms changed. The droid would stop in on cycles every three hours during the day and every five hours at night, as her condition improved, it explained, it would show up less and less.

Then they were left alone in the quiet of the room. Without the droid around, Finn could hear her breathing as she slept the fever off. 

He realized that he couldn’t care for her the way he wanted to, not if he didn’t want to get caught. His helmet and gloves could come off, being easy to remove and put back on and all, but the rest of his armor would have to stay put.

Until night came, he wouldn’t be able to sit close to her or hold her. He really wanted to hold her, seeing how sick and small she suddenly seemed to be, to protect her from the world. Rey had never looked like this before nor did she ever make Finn think she needed his protection. She had always been a strong presence, a force to be reckoned with. Now she looked like she wouldn’t be able to stand up without help.

He noticed her pale skin the most, more so than the spots because the affected parts of her body were mainly covered by her blankets. Her cheeks were sunken and pale with a flush of red across her face caused by the fever. With a gentle, ungloved hand, he touched her cheeks and became worried by how hot to the touch she was.

Rey shifted her head, trying to move in closer to his hand. Finn wondered if his skin was cool compared to hers and if she was trying to follow that sensation. She mumbled something, but it was too low of a sound for Finn to string together. She might not have been speaking real words either.

It was going to be a long day and night, but Finn didn’t want to be anywhere else.

* * *

The dream happened again and again. Starting. Stopping. Replaying. Sometimes it would stop midway through only to restart again in a place she had already seen over and over.

It was like her mind was broken; at least it felt like it was. Something was wrong with her. Something… she didn’t know what. She just wanted it to _stop._

 _“I’ll come back for you sweetheart,”_ the gentle voice in her nightmare said. Then she heard it echo in her mind as the scene changed from the dark night in the rain to the blinding light of the sun on Jakku. 

Rey was a child again, barely five years old and certainly not old enough to fend for herself. She tugged against the restraining grip of Unkar Plutt, crying and screaming at the leaving shuttle to turn around and come back to pick her up.

“Wait! Come back!”

The scene shifted back to the dark night as she waited behind a large rock to stay out of sight of the assailants. The dream was fluttering in rapid imagery and suddenly she found herself face to face with the red lightsaber.

She jolted away, and she was back on Jakku, seeing that same lightsaber cut through one of Plutt’s thugs that thought she needed to be taught obedience.

With an upturn of her head, she glanced at the masked and terrifying stranger that stood before her. The dream flickered again, showing the same man run his lightsaber through one of his partners as they raised their own weapon at Rey. She screamed as the attacker slumped to the ground and tried to move away from the other stranger. 

Her master…

“Rey,” he said, his voice distorted under his mask. “It’s me.”

There was something inside of her telling her that her master was speaking to her on more familiar terms, but she couldn’t quite place what it was about his tone of voice that was suggesting this. He held out his hand, gloved in black leather, as an offering, an attempt to coax her to him.

“Rey!” that other familiar voice, the one that promised to come back for her, shouted behind her.

She turned around, frightened by everything she had seen in the last couple of minutes and shook her head in disbelief at her master before she tried to run towards the other man. But the red lightsaber blocked her path, threatening to cut through her too if she didn’t obey.

A flicker of light followed by a consistent green glow illuminated the night, showing Rey the features of the person she wanted more than anything else to rescue her. He was a middle-aged man with a trimmed beard and anger in his eyes. She knew those eyes were usually gentle but now, all she in them was rage.

“Dad!” she shouted and reached out before the dream cut away again.

“You will obey,” the slow, growled voice of the Supreme Leader surrounded her. Rey could not see her surroundings this time, but she knew she was in some sort of metal chair. Pain radiated through her body, putting a stop to all other thought. The only thing she could do was surrender to that pain; at least then it might stop. She struggled, trying to get away from the source, but something held her in place.

She turned her eyes to her master, crying, “Ben, please-"

But he did nothing as he watched on. Under the mask, she could not even see if he made any sort of reaction to tell her what he was thinking.

This was one of her first recollections of _training_ under the Supreme Leader. It might have even been her first day of it. She had tried so hard to make herself forget those days, certain that her refusal to follow him would end in a very slow and very painful death.

She woke up in her room, brain pounding in agony as she wished that Kylo Ren had never taken her away from Jakku. That was the day she forced herself to obey orders, scraping by to avoid doing what she didn’t want to do but to also avoid another punishment like the last one.

And suddenly her brain felt crowded, like there was too much stored in it. The two dreamscapes fought with each other, trying to convince her that they were the real deal.

So she tried to run through her thoughts to straighten everything up.

 _I am Rey, the scavenger from Jakku,_ she told herself. But wait… that wasn’t right, was it? A part of her told her that she had never been on Jakku while the other part fought to convince her that she had.

So which was the real memory?

 _I am Rey,_ she tried again. _I am Sira, Knight of Ren. My master was Kylo Ren. I…_

 _I… was taken away from my home,_ she suddenly shifted thoughts, certain that this was the right answer. _My cousin took me away. He killed everyone at the Jedi school, the one that my father…_

Realization set in.

_My father tried to save me, he failed._

_My father is Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi Master._

_My cousin is Ben Solo; he calls himself Kylo Ren._

_I am Rey Skywalker._

And suddenly, that pressure against her mind lifted, like suddenly everything clicked into place.

She was sobbing. Her head hurt, her heart hurt, her body hurt. Everything just _hurt._

“Rey?” a gentle voice asked, and she felt herself being lifted into warmth. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to be in, she realized. Something smooth but solid and hard pressed against her face. At the same time, it didn’t bother her too much. She wanted to stay enveloped in that warmth because leaving it would mean going back to the life she did not want.

* * *

“Rey?” Finn called out to her gently. He did not want to startle her, but she was crying in her sleep now and muttering. 

He took her into his arms, laying her across his lap as he tried to soothe her and wake her up. The fever had not broken, and the med droid just left after administering some fever reducer. It was Finn’s job now to watch her.

Opening her eyes, though still obviously dazed by the fever, Rey looked up at his face and reached to touch his face. He placed his hand over hers as it touched his cheek gently.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. She was still crying. “Does anything hurt?”

She nodded, but she didn't answer him verbally because she wasn't sure how to convey everything she was feeling. There was just too much to say. But her mind was fevered and racing, and suddenly she blurted out:

“Snoke changed my memories." Her words were a little slurred, and she knew that Finn wasn’t certain she wasn’t delirious. “I know who I am now.”

He laid her back down on her pillows, tucking her in again and pressing a cool compress to her forehead. He urged her to sip water through a straw.

“I can’t really sit with you until tonight,” he told her. “The med droid keeps stopping in regularly.” He placed his hand against her fevered cheek and smoothed her hair. “I’m glad to see you awake.”

Rey said nothing more, too tired physically and exhausted emotionally to stay awake any longer.

* * *

The next time she was aware of her surroundings, Rey guessed that it was nighttime because Finn was sitting next to her in bed, stripped of his stormtrooper armor except for the joint armor that was harder for him to put on.

He smiled down at her. “Are you awake?”

She shifted in her spot, wanting to sit up but found that her balance was off. Finn placed his hand behind her back to help her steady herself and get more comfortable. Then, she reached out to touch him and glanced down at her skin. Noticing the splotches on her arm, she startled.

“What are these?” Rey checked out her other arm to find that they were also there, then she moved the covers out of the way to lift up her sleep shirt and found them all over the skin of her abdomen.

Finn winced. “Fungal infection. Looks worse than it actually is, I guess.”

“It’s awful! What did I do?”

With a shrug, Finn told her, “You tell me. I guess you walked into a bunch of spores on your mission. That’s how they spread to humans – spores.”

Thinking back to the last thing she remembered about the mission - a lot of it was fuzzy now - she found that she could actually recall how she contracted the infection.

 _"Stupid._ " She pressed her hand to her forehead. "I went over to admire this tree. Old and decaying. Mushrooms were growing along its trunk. Then something... pushed me... or maybe I fell? I can't quite remember that part."

She grunted and covered herself again. “These are going to go away, right?” Imagining herself wandering around with red spots all over her, Rey shuddered. She had never been vain about her appearance, but she also would rather not look like she was carrying a disease forever. Sure, she always kept herself covered, creating the illusion of a fearful Knight of Ren, but she also wanted Finn to find her attractive…

With a shake of her head, she leapt away from that thought. What was getting into her?

“You told me something a couple of hours ago, do you remember?” he asked, getting her attention.

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. Rey knew exactly what he meant, but that also meant explaining something she found particularly difficult to talk about. Still, in her experience, Rey knew that just starting and talking about it without hesitation would get the problem over with quicker. She also had no intention to remain on this Star Destroyer for much longer, now that she knew the truth. 

The offer would be open to Finn too, of course, that is, if he wanted to leave the First Order with her. She would not force him to leave. However, a part of her was confident he was not fond of the Order either. 

Until tonight, she had never realized just how similar they were. Both of them were taken from their families, both of them had a distaste for what the First Order stood for. The only real difference between them now is that Rey could at least remember her family and how much they loved her and how someone she that she had loved betrayed her.

So she told Finn everything she could. About that dark, rainy night. About her cousin’s betrayal. About her kidnapping and brainwashing.

“Luke Skywalker’s your father,” Finn breathed when she finished.

She nodded. “I… think so.” Her head was hurting again. During her explanation, her memories of that night and her memories of Jakku fought with each other, battling to consume the other as the real memory. Rey was certain that the memories of Jakku were false now, there were oddities that stood out, like someone had taken such care to put so much detail into the memory that certain parts did not flow naturally. 

“I know I’m not from Jakku,” she confessed, “but part of my mind still believes I am. Snoke did this to me and if he finds out…” She looked at Finn, whose eyes were wide at what she was implying. He looked scared. 

“I’m going to leave the First Order, Finn,” she finally told him. “When I’m better, I’m leaving.” She reached for his hand. “Will you come with me?”

Her question was met with silence as he thought her offer over. Her heart thumped hard in her chest as her mind raced straight to rejection. She would never force Finn to go with her, but it hurt to think the lines of their relationship would cross the minute one of them was no longer involved with the First Order. But even for his sake, she could not stay. Finn would probably be fine-

To her relief, Finn took her hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss was short and sweet, but it meant so much to her. “I know now that the First Order was lying to us all along about the New Republic.” He looked over at the datapad sitting on the table in the corner. “The galaxy is a lot better place than what they told us. But Rey, where will we go?”

She thought about it for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t quite planned this part out yet. There were many places they could go, but they had to make sure it was safe from the First Order’s grasp. Snoke and Kylo Ren – a sad part of her echoed _Ben,_ knowing he abandoned that name a long time ago – would tear apart the galaxy to get her back. Her cousin especially had the strange idea that somehow Rey was connected to his own destiny, one that the dark side decided for him. She remembered how he encouraged her to take up the mantel of a Knight of Ren to support himself.

 _"Join me, Rey,”_ he had said that night before her sight went dark and her mind went blank. _“The dark side can offer us power that the Jedi never could. We could be great together. This is_ my _destiny, Rey. It could be yours too.”_

And that told her that his care for her only applied when she was serving his twisted and selfish idea of his own destiny. The moment that Kylo Ren stole her away from her father was the moment he ceased to be her family.

But maybe…

“Leia Organa is my aunt,” she told Finn. “I know from intel that she’s created a private military to keep the First Order at bay. Maybe she could help us.”

Finn sat in deep thought for a few moments before answering her initial thought. “And if she doesn’t accept us? Doesn’t _trust_ us?" he asked. “Rey, you and I might not exactly be met with welcome arms. For all the Resistance knows, we’re their enemies.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Rey assured him. “I’ll make contact with the Resistance first, try to negotiate a meeting on neutral terms. I hope that she would listen to me; maybe she even looked for me and her son.” That was when another thought came to mind. “Finn, I promise, if we think there’s a chance that the Resistance will hurt us, we’ll stay away from them too. We’ll hide out.”

“The Outer Rim?” suggested Finn. 

Yes, that might work. The First Order had some holdings in the Outer Rim, taking over worlds deemed unimportant to the New Republic but important to the Order’s needs of resources. Rey could easily get intel on the worlds that the First Order had no interest in, worlds that would be perfect to hide out in. If not, they could try a Mid Rim or Core world for a while, but she wasn’t sure how long that could last. General Hux was adamant in his plans to declare war on the New Republic soon. Starkiller was completed and tested. It was only a matter of time before Hux moved his plans into action.

“I’ll leave with you, Rey,” Finn told her.

Overjoyed by his response and relieved that she would not have to leave him behind or even face him behind enemy lines one day, Rey leaned up to kiss him on the lips.

It was supposed to be a tender and romantic moment between them, as Rey imagined it in her head, but something prevented that image from fully manifesting.

“Oh, _sithspit.”_

A sudden attack of itchiness infested her body, localized from under her arms and along her thighs. The feeling was absolute murder. She wanted to scratch everywhere at once, but her nails felt sharp against the spots on her skin and she hissed.

Finn stood up and walked over to the button on the wall to call Medical. “The med droid told me that might happen,” he explained. “I’ll call them to bring some of that anti-itch cream. They might have you go take a dip in a bath treatment instead.”

“Gah! Just tell them to hurry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea behind Rey's story came from a meta that was popular shortly after The Force Awakens novelization release that quickly lost interest over the months. It used some evidence provided in the book that Rey might have had a memory wipe when she was a kid because she could not recall many details about her life before Jakku and Kylo Ren found that some things had been locked away - including something about Ahch-To - during the interrogation scene. Considering that we have characters that can read minds now, a memory wipe or memory alteration ability would not be so far-fetched. Torture, unfortunately, can also cause the alteration of memories for some victims. For this story, I thought it would be an interesting addition.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans don't always go as they were intended.

Rey knew that what she was doing was risky, but she was doing it anyway.

The cantina was a seedy one, definitely not a place she would willingly drink at on any given night, but the low lighting and humanoid exotic dancers made it easier for her to sit at the bar unnoticed. Abandoning her usual uniform, she wore a black high-necked top with sleeves that had the shoulders cut out and a simple pair of black pants. A couple of the spots from her illness still remained on her arms even three weeks after her recovery and she was still a little self-conscious about them though she was assured that those spots would fade away in the next week or two. 

It was hard enough to get last-minute clearance to borrow a TIE to go to Kiffu under the guise of investigating their electrical grids as a possible future source of energy for the First Order; it was even harder to find clothes that didn’t make it obvious that she belonged to an Imperial copycat organization. Luckily, a few of the higher-ranking officers had a taste for attending parties to butter up rich old sympathizers of the Empire and Rey was able to borrow their clothes for a while.

Well, maybe _borrowing_ was too soft a word. She stole the clothes out of the laundry facilities, noting the names of the officers to make sure they would get their clothes back when she returned.

A report was waiting for her when she got back, prepared by the teamwork between herself and Finn. She would have liked Finn to come with her here, but she knew that bringing a freshly graduated cadet as a bodyguard would look suspicious. She had also just put in the request for another cadet to shift nights with Finn; Rey would miss being with him every night, but she knew it had to be done in an effort to keep him safe and their relationship hidden.

Finn had also been called away that night to go on his first official ground mission. She hoped whatever he was involved in was not too dangerous or awful. She needed Finn to come back to her safely and in one piece.

Hopefully, if all went well tonight, they would not have to deal with any of this for much longer. She had stolen the clearance codes she needed whenever they decided to make their escape and she knew how to disable the trackers in the transport type she had selected for the purpose of escaping. They could leave at a moment’s notice if they had to.

She scanned the bar, waiting for her contact and hoping she was not sent into a trap. After a week of trying, she managed to get an encrypted message to the Resistance using her own modified communications system. She might not have actually been a scavenger from Jakku, but she started to recall other memories now that she had broken through the false ones. Rey, it turned out, had always loved to tinker with gadgets and someone – she still wasn’t quite sure who – had taught her encryption techniques that would be hard for others to crack.

If her family sided with the Resistance, she knew that she had good chances of using those techniques and being heard by the right people.

And then, to both her relief and added anxiety, a response by someone coded _Starling_ was received. If she wanted to meet with General Organa, she’d have to meet with Starling first to prove that she was who she claimed to be.

“Sith scorcher,” a woman approached the bar and ordered. Rey looked her over and noted her brown skin, though not quite the same shade as Finn’s, and cropped, curled and blond hair. She realized that was not the woman’s natural color. It had been bleached and that her real hair color must have been darker. Her clothing was casual, a black leather jacket over a white tank top and standard blue pants.

The woman had ordered the drink that had been specified in the message’s instructions to look for, but now Rey just needed to do one more thing to be sure that this was the Resistance’s messenger and not a random civilian. 

“What’s the best thing to eat here?” she asked the woman.

An eyebrow shifted upward. “The marlello wings, just don’t look at the calorie count.”

Rey’s heart thumped in her chest. “That’s fine. I burned so many calories on that run two weeks ago.”

There was a pause. Rey grew nervous. Maybe this woman wasn't-

The woman snorted. “Never fails to make laugh, that one.” She looked around the bar, spotting a booth in a secluded corner. “Let’s move over there, shall we?”

When they were seated, the woman took a good look at Rey.

“Well, I can certainly see a resemblance to the general, if you are who you say you are. You match the image I was given too, just a couple of years older. Hair buns and all.”

Rey’s hand instinctively moved back to touch the three hair buns. She always put her hair up like that and was now trying to remember if she always had or if someone had shown her this style.

“Would Senator Organa arrange a meeting with me, then?” Rey got straight to the point, worried that she was short on time.

Starling, as Rey called her in her head, still not sure of the woman’s real name, hummed. “She’s not a senator anymore, but yes, she’d be willing on a condition.”

“And what’s that?”

Sliding a holo projector between them, Starling turned it on, revealing the image of a man with a handsome face, wearing an orange flight suit. “We believe that our pilot, Poe Dameron, was taken captive by the First Order on Jakku just a few hours ago. The general sent me this request herself. Get him out, and the Resistance will offer you safe passage to General Organa.”

Rey stared at the image for a moment, she had not seen the pilot or gotten word of a captive yet, but it would be easy to find out. General Hux especially had a tendency to brag loudly when special captives had been taken in.

But the First Order rarely kept prisoners around for long…

“And if I fail?” she asked, bracing herself for a bad response.

The holo was turned off. “We could make other arrangements, but Dameron would be a surefire way of arranging a meeting with the General.” Starling’s demeanor turned cold, daring Rey to make an excuse of why she couldn’t rescue the pilot.

“It will be done,” she assured the Resistance woman. “But I have another question. A friend wishes to leave the Order with me. Will you also assure me his safety if I bring you the pilot?”

Finn was a deal breaker for her. If he was not given the same treatment as Rey, if his safety or life was threatened in any way, they would pass on the bargain and go to Plan B, which involved them world hopping for a while until the First Order lost their trail.

“Who is this friend?” asked Starling.

“A stormtrooper, fresh to the ranks.” Dare she say it? “My lover.”

A small smile curled on the woman’s lips. “I see. Well, if any issues arise, we have a friend that could vouch for your identities. Maybe you know him. He used to train the youngest cadets.”

Rey had to think on this for a moment, but then it registered with her. “Cardinal?”

Starling nodded. “Yes, he came with me to the Resistance quietly.”

Smoothing a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Rey looked at Starling in disbelief. “Finn had wondered where he went off to; everyone did. I can’t believe he of all people would join the Resistance.” She had never met Cardinal before, but she had seen his educational videos and knew his reputation. Cardinal was devoted to the First Order, loyal to the memory of Brendol Hux and all that the man had stood for. He was the perfect example of the ideology of the First Order and the perfect man to be in charge of the early training of all the cadets.

The grin on Starling’s face grew wider. “Well, he’s not exactly on our side,” she explained. “He and Phasma got in a bit of a tiff and he decided that the best way he could save the Order from themselves was to negotiate with us. He’s… how should I put this…? In ‘ethical and negotiated captivity.’”

Well, that sounded better than being a prisoner. Rey was not sure how the Resistance treated their prisoners, but she wanted to avoid that entirely for herself and Finn. Starling’s explanation was more of a warning to her. She was telling Rey that if she and Finn were lying about who they were, the Resistance would be able to confirm this pretty quickly as long as Cardinal was cooperating with them.

Rey also saw this as an opportunity to verify herself and the story of how she ended up in the First Order.

Without confirming her stance on the offer, Rey stood up and got ready to leave.

Starling stared at her. “Well?” she asked, obviously wanting an answer.

“I’m thinking I have to get going now.” Rey’s grin was wide. “I’ve got a pilot to break out.”

* * *

She thought she would have had to ask around about a new prisoner until she learned of the whereabouts of this Poe Dameron, but as luck had it, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“Sira,” the voice of her former master greeted her as she walked off the ramp of her shuttle. 

Rey frowned under her mask. She had hidden the clothing in a bag that lay against her hips and under her mantle. Back to being a Knight, clothes and all.

“Kylo,” she said, with a cold bite to her voice. She no longer had to call him her master; as far as she was concerned, she had earned it. Still, she could not bring herself to refer to this man as her cousin.

“You might be interested to see what we picked up on Jakku,” he told her.

“Oh?” she pretended to be curious. In reality, all she wanted to do was to find Finn, tell him what she had learned and get on with her search for a Resistance pilot.

But Kylo Ren would insist that she come with him, adamant as he was about whatever he found. His tone of voice was dangerous. It told her that he was pleased about something, which she knew in her experience was never a good thing. But perhaps, she thought, she could use the opportunity to find out more about the mission to Jakku, maybe even locate Finn in the process since she was bound to pass stormtroopers on her way with Kylo.

Briefly, she worried that something had happened to Finn on Jakku and Kylo’s demeanor was over the discovery of their secret relationship. The fear of being caught was always present in the darkest corners of her mind and she knew that the longer they let it go on and the longer they stayed with the First Order, the more likely it was that they would be found out by someone.

But quickly, that fear melted away when she felt Finn's presence in the walkways of the _Finalizer._ There was something a little off about his signature in the Force but she wondered if he was still coming down from his experience on Jakku.

Kylo led her to a dark corridor where some of the interrogation rooms were located. It was considered to be a high-security area, but Rey knew how lax the stormtroopers guarding the rooms could be. She had seen them slacking off enough in her wanderings around the Star Destroyer to know that the trust the officers has given them had been misplaced.

The door to one of the rooms swooped open, revealing a man strapped in to one of the interrogation chairs, battered, bruised, and bloody. He was still in the chair and appeared to be asleep. Rey had to take a quick glance at his chest to make sure he was still breathing.

She took a good guess at who this man was, but she wanted to be positive first.

“Who’s this?” she asked.

“The best pilot in the Resistance,” Kylo said proudly. “Commander Dameron.”

So, here he was. She certainly did not have to look far from him. The tricky part would be to get him out of the room and onto her shuttle and soon, by the look of it. Rey had been gone for about ten hours adding travel time and the man had clearly been tortured. Once Hux and Kylo were done with him…

Well, it wouldn’t be long now and the First Order did not keep its prisoners around unless they were incredibly important. She doubted a Resistance pilot held that much importance to them, even if he was the best.

“What did you get out of him?” Rey knew that Kylo had already gotten to him. His behavior had told her as much. He found something in the pilot’s memory and he wanted to hold it over Rey’s head, hoping that he could convince her to partner with him.

“A map,” he replied, “to Luke Skywalker.”

Suddenly, the world around Rey seemed to come to a complete stop. 

“His droid has it,” Kylo continued. “We’ve sent a team to search for it.”

So there was still time then. Her stomach sank in a bit of relief. Still, she had to be quick if she wanted to keep Skywalker out of the hands of the First Order. She knew more than anyone else that his discovery would lead to his death. How many times had Kylo told her that he was a threat to the two of them, that killing him would lead them on the path of meeting their destiny?

She still had no idea what destiny he was talking about and her suspicions made her believe that she was not a big part of that destiny anyway. Kylo only focused on himself and the Supreme Leader. She knew that one day, Snoke and Kylo would only see each other as enemies and it would not end well for at least one of them. Anyone else was either a pawn of Kylo's or disposable.

The other thought that occurred to her was that she still did not think of Skywalker as her father. The memories were there but her heart still felt disconnected. Perhaps this was from all the years of separation or from the fact she still wasn’t completely sure she was his daughter.

Would he even want me anymore? she wondered. Would he want me if he knew what I had become?

Not that she had wanted to be a Knight of Ren, but it became clear to her early on in her training that she had no choice. If she refused the dark side, Snoke would have killed her. Perhaps her bloodline had a lot more to do with her treatment than she would have cared to admit. 

A memory of one of those first days onboard the _Supremacy_ had resurfaced. _Please, please,_ she had begged her captors. _Just let me go. I won’t be a challenge to you. I just want to go._

She remembered sobbing and how raw her throat felt as she begged.

After that first day, her cousin had not shown his face in the interrogation room. She could not recall him again until a few weeks later, when she lay on the cold floor of Snoke’s throne room, shaking and in pain. Perhaps he had felt some guilt for what he had done and that was why he wanted to stay away from his cousin. In any case, Rey could never find it in her heart to forgive him for what he had done, for taking her away from her family and the happy life she once led.

She would never forgive him, not after he had taken so much away from her.

“I guess you’re about to get what you want, Kylo,” she told him, trying to make herself sound as indifferent as possible. “If you excuse me, I have a report to finish.”

Taking her leave, Rey walked cooly away to avoid rousing his suspicion. Shining him off like that was not unlike her; he would probably think she was once again uninterested in his plans and affairs.

But she was forming a plan in her head. Now, if only she could find…

Finn’s presence filled her senses again, but something was wrong. He felt… disoriented and panicked. He was close by... She thought to everything located in this area. Rey prayed that she wasn’t going to find him in Medical.

Turning a corner, she spotted him alone and breathing deeply and holding his hands against his helmet. He _was_ panicking.

There were three marks of blood on his helmet, staining and running red over the pristine white…

Whose blood was that?

“Finn,” she hissed.

He jumped and looked around, sighing in relief when he saw her. “Oh, Rey…”

Quickly, so they were not caught together, she led him by the arm to a supply closet where blaster bolts and spare parts were kept. She closed the door behind them and immediately Finn removed his helmet, panting. Sweat beaded down his face. His eyes were frightened. 

“I-" he began. “Rey, I’m so sorry. I screwed up.”

Following his lead, she removed her helmet and put her gloved hands to his face in concern, trying to anchor him to reality. “What happened?”

“Slip’s dead.” He looked like he was about to cry.

Pity swelled in her heart as she looked over his face. She knew that the cadet nicknamed Slip had been the closest thing to a friend that FN-2187 had ever had. Finn had told her all about him and how he struggled to keep up with the rest of the cadets. Before she had met Finn, she might have thought a straggler was a weakness to the First Order, worthless. But Slip had not been worthless. He had meant something to someone just as Finn meant something to Rey.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and crushed her body against his, the armor being an uncomfortable barrier between them. Rey did not know what to say to him and knew that no words would be able to fix the past or Finn’s broken heart.

“And you?” she asked. “You’re okay?”

He shook his head. “No. No,” he breathed. “I couldn’t do it, Rey. I couldn’t hurt them. And Phasma – she told me to submit my blaster for inspection. They’re gonna find out I didn’t fire it on purpose.”

Rey knew what he was implying before he even said it. That was something that Rey would never allow to happen. “Do you have your blaster with you?” She looked around the dark closet and spotted it lying on the floor. Picking it up, she handed it back to him. “Think, Finn. You’re one of the most promising new stormtroopers in the ranks. You know this weapon. Tell me, what weaknesses in it can you exploit?”

He looked down at the blaster and with shaky fingers, grabbed for a screwdriver in a box of tools off a shelf. He inserted it into one of the screws on the body of the blaster, then pulled at the weapon from opposite ends like he was trying to pull it apart.

A sudden metallic _click_ echoed briefly in the closet. Rey gasped as she watched Finn try to ready the blaster to no avail. He had caused it to jam up, rendering it useless.

“What did you do?”

He shrugged. “These blasters have this little screw here that always seem to cause jams by getting just slightly loose.” He pointed at the one he was talking about, to the side of the blaster’s body. “It happens all the time.”

She grabbed his face between her hands and leaned in to kiss him. 

“You are a life saver,” he muttered.

“That was all you,” she pointed out. 

But Finn shook his head. “I would have never thought to jam up my own weapon before inspection.” He frowned. “I guess I still believe a little that nothing gets by the First Order. But I see it now, all the little cracks in the system that they don’t want anyone to see.”

And Rey wanted to widen those cracks for the galaxy to see.

“Listen to me, Finn,” she said. “We can leave today, in a few hours even, but we have to do one thing.”

“I’m listening.”

* * *

Finn took a deep breath before he approached the doors to the holding cell. What he was about to do was a big risk, but it had to be done. Staying here would be an even bigger risk, even after he submitted the jammed blaster for inspection. 

No, this had to be done because it was time for him to leave this place for good. He had once heard that there came times where instinct would tell you when to act and his instinct was telling him that now was the time.

The door opened with a hissing _woosh_ and he stepped inside.

The prisoner, Poe Dameron, was still alive but he would not be for much longer. Whether his fate was left to a slow, agonizing death or a quick one via airlock was something that Finn had no intention to see. And now that Kylo Ren had gotten what information he needed, Finn doubted that his life was not long for this world by the intentions of the First Order.

“Lord Ren wants the prisoner,” he said in the most authoritative voice he could muster at the moment. He glanced as Dameron slumped in his seat, obviously tired of this being dragged out. In fact, Finn guessed that the pilot had probably thought he would be dead already.

“I was not told to expect you,” the stormtrooper guard told him. “Why would Ren wish to question the prisoner outside of the cell?”

“Do you dare to question Lord Ren’s motives?” Finn growled.

“No, no!” the guard insisted. “I-"

But instead of finishing his sentence, the guard released the prisoner from the chair’s bindings. Without them to keep him upright, Dameron slid from his position and fell down to his knees, exhausted and shaking.

If Finn could help him, he would have, but appearances demanded that he treat the prisoner as such. He prodded the weapon against Dameron, startling him to stand up. He swayed on spot and Finn was worried that he might not make it to the hangar without help.

Leading the prisoner out, Finn commanded him to turn into a quiet and empty narrow passageway. He reached to halt Dameron with his gloved hand and the looked at his face. The poor man was bewildered and scared. He probably wondered if Finn would make slow work of him here, make a show of it.

“Listen carefully and do exactly what I say,” he told Dameron in a hush. “Do exactly what I say and I can get you out of here.”

Confused, Dameron squinted at Finn. “I… what?”

Finn removed his helmet, hoping that it would help him be easier to understand and more human in appearance. “This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape.”

Stunned, Dameron gaped at Finn. “Are you with the Resistance?”

“What?” Finn made a gesture to their surroundings. “Seriously? You think- No, I’m just breaking you out.” He glanced up and down the passageway, relieved to still not spot anyone coming up. “We gotta go,” he said.

“Why are you helping me?” The pilot’s face was more alert now, the hope of making it out alive breaking him from his daze-like state. 

Finn looked out the corridor one more time before turning back. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

With a huff, Dameron said, “Buddy, if we’re going to do this, we have to be honest with each other.”

“A friend and I are trying to leave and the Resistance made a deal with us. We get you out, they hear us out.”

The pilot broke into a wide grin. “Well, you just got me.”

Replacing his helmet back on his head, Finn pointed back in the direction they had come from and gestured for Dameron to follow him. “Stop looking so positive,” he hissed. “You’re still a prisoner, remember?”

And Poe quickly resumed the sad and forlorn look he had before Finn had revealed his plans to him.

To both of their surprises, no one stopped them to ask questions nor caught on to their ploy. But Finn knew the First Order and how they believed that star destroyers were nearly unescapable. No one thought of the odds of a prisoner escaping or a stormtrooper deserting.

Nor did they think of a Knight of Ren betraying them for the Resistance.

Finn spotted the shuttle that Rey had been readying for them. She had everything planned, and the shuttle was already had been approved for takeoff at a moment’s notice. The perks of being a Knight, she had told him, was that you could use the excuse of a sudden mission for nearly everything and no one would be dumb enough to question you.

They tried to act natural as a group of officers marched passed them. Dameron tried not to make eye contact with any of them, opting to look down at the ground and feign defeat. Finn nudged him again with his blaster, trying to look the part of a trooper leading a prisoner to his fate.

“Stay calm. Stay calm,” he muttered.

“I am calm,” said Dameron as he watched the officer pass them.

“I was talking to myself,” Finn explained.

Rey stood in front of the transport, still dressed as a Knight of Ren, waiting for their arrival. Finn could tell how anxious she was by her stance, though the average passerby would miss the small signs. She was wringing her hands together under her mantel and Finn could only see a small part of her gloves peeking out from under the material.

Now he was not sure who was the most anxious: himself, Rey, or Poe Dameron.

The pilot started to tremble the moment he spotted Rey. Finn understood why; he had no idea that Rey was on their side and she looked pretty terrifying in her garb. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to the pilot. “She won't hurt you, but keep acting nervous. You’re supposed to be heading to your doom.”

“Not acting,” Dameron mumbled.

They approached the doors of the transport, flanked by Rey, who was acting like an ominous figure behind them. Dameron took the time to glance over the shuttle. Finn knew that Rey had selected well. It wasn’t large, but it would still be roomy for just three people. She had it packed with rations and first aid supplies last week, under the guise that she might be heading out on a potentially long and dangerous mission at any moment. 

The shuttle had already been run through a pre-flight check courtesy of Rey and the droids that were assigned to the hangar for that specific job. Its interior was spotless until Dameron slipped himself free of his bloody flight jacket and left it on one of the seats. He looked around the shuttle, as if trying to memorize every detail.

“Never thought I’d be in one of these,” he commented. “I always wanted to fly a TIE, but if there’s three of us…” He looked to Rey, still weary of her and her appearance.

She said nothing as she and Finn took their seats. Rey sat at the controls, prepping the shuttle for takeoff while Finn closed the door of the shuttle and took his seat towards the back next to Dameron. He wanted to stay out of sight for now.

“You are with friends, Commander Dameron,” said Rey underneath her mask as she moved the shuttle into a lift. She looked at the console, waiting for the signal from the main control room that it was safe to leave. 

It was only a moment before she received it and proceeded to move the shuttle out to space.

When they reached a safe distance away from the _Finalizer,_ Finn removed his helmet and sighed with relief. He stood up and moved over to Rey, removing her own helmet and kissing her to celebrate their success.

“You’ll never have to wear that helmet again, Finn,” Rey breathed, “I will make sure of it.”

Finn smiled. “And you’ll never have to wear _that_ helmet again, Rey, as long as I can help it.”

Dameron sat in his seat, watching the two curiously but waiting for the moment between them to pass before he spoke. “I have a lot of questions,” he confessed, “I’d like to know why a Knight of Ren would help me, for one. But first, I gotta ask: where are we going?”

Rey grinned at him and it was the first grin that Finn had ever seen her give when the two of them weren’t alone. It was breathtaking.

“I’ll explain on the way later,” she began, “but first, I think we need to take a short pit stop. I believe there’s something of yours down there. Something important.” Nodding her head, she looked down at the reddish-gold world below them.

Not containing his excitement, Poe Dameron grinned widely. “What are your names?”

“Rey,” she replied simply. “Just Rey.”

Finn wandered back over to take his seat next to Dameron. “Name’s Finn.”

For the both of them, saying their names out loud to a stranger tasted of freedom in their mouths and they knew that if all went well in the next couple of hours, they would get to sample more of that feeling.

Even with their fears and doubts sitting at the pit of their stomachs, they couldn’t wait to find out what happened next.

* * *

On the bridge of the _Finalizer,_ General Hux stood behind Lieutenant Mitaka with a frown on his face.

Kylo Ren had been the one to sound the alarm. The prisoner had escaped, and it looked like he had help.

What was really upsetting Kylo was not the prisoner's escape, but the fact that his own apprentice appeared to be the one to help him. How she had been planning this all along, no one really knew, but she managed to have everything perfectly in place to slip away undetected. Her clearance codes were approved a week prior, and she had been smart enough to disable all forms of tracking from the shuttle she had taken off in. There was already talk that Sira Ren had somehow knew weeks in advance that a Resistance member would be taken prisoner and that she had made the painstakingly difficult planning so that their escape would go off without a hitch. Perhaps, some of the technicians were whispering, she could see the future like the Supreme Leader.

Hux had his doubts. If anything, he would bet that she had contacted the Resistance a while ago and during her escape the pilot just happened to be on the Star Destroyer she was on. The girl had seemed pretty unremarkable to him for a Knight of Ren.

But the guards had reported that a stormtrooper had taken the prisoner from the interrogation room and not knowing who was what irked Hux the most.

Kylo stood behind him in a sour mood. Hux might have not been able to see behind the metallic mask, but it didn't take a genius to know exactly what Kylo was thinking. He never exactly hid his emotions.

"It seems that your apprentice and the pilot had help," Hux sneered. "One of our own."

"FN-2187." Kylo's voice was distant in thought.

Yes, that would make sense. Out of all the stormtroopers, the only one to make regular contact with Sira Ren had been FN-2187, her assigned guard for her very peculiar request. Sira had seemed so adamant not to let him go from the position. Hux would have just thought she had taken a fancy to him and would have a short-lived affair with him. That was common enough, and they were roughly around the same age. He wouldn't have batted an eye at that and just have looked the other way. But now that they were both missing along with a prisoner...

"They're going back for the droid," Hux guessed. He knew there was something important that the droid was hiding, Kylo had given the order to have Jakku scouted and searched just hours before. Whatever it was, Sira probably wanted it too.

Too bad he hadn't approached her earlier. He hadn't expected this sudden flight from her. Actually, his misjudgement made him believe that there would have been a little more warning. He had been hoping that whatever her intentions were, that perhaps they could have been of benefit to each other as allies.

A pity, really.

Hux stared outside the viewport to the view of Jakku, wondering what challenges lay ahead for him and his troops.

He looked forward to see what exactly Sira Ren was planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this fic is done. I decided to leave the story open at the end. Not every plot point has to be tied up, much like how not everything in life gets addressed or solved.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this story. It actually only took a month and a half to write the original draft because I knew exactly where I wanted this story to go. I wanted to showcase the First Order without breaking too far out of canon and avoid glorifying them like many fics do. This meant I spent a lot of time with different tie-ins and novelizations as well as Wookiepedia articles and real data. Star Wars allows you to have a creative input in how you make facts into fiction (such as Rey's fever helping her break through her memory loss), but almost everything I added in this had backing from canon material and psychological studies. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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